


In and Out of Time

by drunkgoose



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Loki (Marvel) Lives, M/M, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Is a Good Bro, The First Avenger re-write, Time Travel, but kinda clueless, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkgoose/pseuds/drunkgoose
Summary: *ENDGAME SPOILERS FROM CHAPTER 23 ONWARDS*Loki is thrown back to where it all began, a dusty side alley in 1940's Brooklyn and begins hatching a plan to save the future he left behind. When he runs into Bucky Barnes by chance he could never have guessed how important he'd be, or who he'd become.





	1. Looking Behind

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the Bucky/Loki Time Travel AU/Infinity War fix-it no one asked for but I still felt the need to write. I'm trying a new thing where I write ahead instead of seeking instant validation so there'll be weekly updates. I promise this has a happy ending, but I'll forewarn you there's about 30,000 words of angst and counting before we get to that.

When Loki awoke it was everything the attack had been, violent, rushed and marred by the indignities of desperation. He found himself curled up on damp ground, fingernails clawing at his neck as he tried to grasp for the air he’d been denied what felt like moments earlier. As soon as he saw Thanos’ ship he knew there was no way out, the Titan was never going to let him leave alive, not when there was a practical cornucopia of information sitting inside his head. For all his talk of an unbiased balance, he was no God, he made decisions based on circumstance just like everyone else. If he didn’t think quickly he was dead, or worse, and they say that in times of crisis people fall back on the familiar, so that’s exactly what Loki did, and he was something of an old hand at faking his death. That didn’t stop the crushing pain as Thanos crippled his fingers around his neck, it needed to be his most believable trick yet, he had to hold out long enough to play dead, had to not move as his limp body hit the blood-soaked floor, had to ignore his brother’s muffled screams. But he’d been expecting all of that, what he hadn’t counted on was Thanos blowing up the ship for good measure, so when his eyes did burst open he half expected to be in Hel. However, after a moment of adjustment, it was clear that wasn’t the case at all, well unless Hela had gone on a serious decorating kick in the previous twelve hours. Instead of his Sisters personal prison, he was met by red brick and iron railings that scaled the enclosing buildings, all topped off by the faint scorch marks surrounding his body. Definitely Earth then. He didn’t think he’d been swept up in the Bifrost, he knew what that felt like after all, and besides Heimdall was dead so it couldn’t be. Some kind of spatial tear? If anything could crack a hole in the universe it’d be an infinity stone induced explosion.

Once he’d managed to hoist himself upright with his back against a wall he wasted no time pulling the suffocating outer layers of armour from his body and tossing them onto the floor beside him. As much as his body might have wanted to stay where it was, he knew he needed a plan, there were worse places the universe could have spat him out, Thanos had two of the infinity stones and his next stop was almost certainly Earth. The Avengers probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to see him, but if he could find the Hulk or Banner he might be able to convince his old teammates of his allegiances. It was as he was contemplating how exactly he’d find his most recent ally when Loki realised that something was decidedly off, the tall buildings told him he was in a city but the sounds felt too rough to be one of the bustling metropolis’ he remembered, and the odour seemed a few shades different than the last time he’d been on Earth. His confusion was short lived once he spotted a slightly torn newspaper lying in the gutter next to him.

“What”, he muttered softly, entirely to himself, as he ran his bruised hands across the fading date. The New York Times, September 2nd 1941. It appeared that whatever glitch had landed him in his current predicament hadn’t just been in space. Most of the Avengers hadn’t even been born yet. As it turned out then he had a good eighty years before Thanos’ arrival, and so he turned his attention to more immediate matters. With no Avengers he was on his own, the first thing he’d need was money, and he’d never been happier to have such an admittedly gaudy taste in weaponry. Having still possessed a pair of daggers with solid gold hilts that had been tucked away in his armour which were sure to fetch a decent amount. At first he tried to conjure a couple extra but apparently, the journey hadn’t done his magic any favours, for the first time in years he could feel it working to keep up his most base of illusions. So, he stumbled to his feet and was sure to yank a scarf off a passing clothesline to hide the bruises already formed on his neck. Although on further inspection in the nearest public bathroom, he realised it might have been a futile effort. Even with the evidence of Thanos’ grip hidden, the trauma of the last few days was clear, there was blood and dirt all over the right side of his face and despite having discarded the outer layers, his clothes still gave off an air of disaster and warfare. He cleaned himself as best he could before searching for the shadiest looking pawnbrokers he could find in what he’d figured was Brooklyn, reasoning that no respectable business would ever buy anything from someone in his state, let alone ornate gold.

The shop he landed on looked as you’d expect it to, small and with flakes of out of date wallpaper peeling from every surface and Loki was pretty sure he spotted a bug in his peripheral. However, the important thing was that the God was well travelled enough to know what a criminal operation looked like.

“Hey there, you looking to buy or sell today?” The elderly shop owner took one look at Loki before adding, “Selling then”, his face was a Picasso and his back was curling in on itself, not to say he lacked a vision of intelligence, but it was one shaped by a life spent dodging cinder blocks. Loki presented the daggers, he took no joy in parting with them but his magic would be back soon and he could always conjure more. At least he hoped. “These are quite something”, the man’s eyes widened to reveal a most spectacular shade of brown hidden behind his clunky glasses and wrinkles, “You sure you wanna part with ‘em”

“Quite”, assured Loki.

“You mind telling me where you found these? I’ve never seen anything like it” Despite the pawnbrokers initial interest his speech felt unusually rehearsed, probably no stranger to having to enquire the province of items.

“Family heirlooms”, Loki lied just as easily.

“So no paperwork?”

“Afraid’ not”, he said, eager to follow the emerging script to the letter, “Will that be a problem?”

“I shouldn’t think so, you say they’re heirlooms they’re heirlooms”, he replied with a grin, “But you understand I’ll have to knock the price down, not having paperwork can affect the resale value and such”.

“Of course”, whatever the man offered would be well below the actual value anyway, he’d have been happy with some money for food and a clean change of clothes.

The man disappeared for a few minutes before coming back out and handing Loki a small envelope of money. A calm, “Does that work for you”.

Plus a “That should be more than adequate”, on Loki’s part and the entire deal was done. Priceless Asgardian weapons sitting on a shelf in Brooklyn, Heimdall must’ve been turning in his grave. At least he could buy new clothes. First, he ducked into the nearest thrift store so he’d at least get through the door of a nicer establishment. It was way too warm out for turtlenecks, but considering the state of his neck, he decided it was probably best to stick with a safe option for the moment. The only other thing that made him stand out at a glance was the hair, which reluctantly made his last stop a barber shop, he could always grow it back at the end of the day. By the time it was all over he hardly recognised himself, which maybe wasn’t such a bad thing. Wasn’t that what Ragnarok was all about? A fresh start on a new planet. But it would apparently be one without Thor, selfishly he hadn’t thought much about his brother since his arrival on Midgard, too preoccupied with his own survival. Was his brother even alive? He must be, did he think Loki was dead, again? He tried to distance himself from those thoughts because he had got one thing right, he was a survivor, he’d lived through Thanos twice, and was on death number three, waking up in the wrong time on the wrong planet was nothing.

However, it did occur to Loki that even in 1941 he’d need some kind of identification, and he didn’t have the magic or the knowledge to fake it himself. Earth had just entered one of the deadliest decades in its history, and the shadows were a cold place to be in times of conflict. Fortunately underworlds were one of Loki’s specialities, he also couldn’t help but laugh about all the occasions Thor and his cohort had mocked how much time he’d spent reading about places he’d likely never visit, because whilst Thor had been mostly indifferent to Earth prior to his banishment, Loki had always at least observed it from a comfortable distance, and the battle of New York hadn’t been his first or evidently his last visit. The Bifrost was far from the only way off Asgard, nor was it the only way to Midgard, there were numerous pathways that opened up every once in a while if you knew where to look, and Loki always knew where to look.

In his experience, there were three reasons people turned to crime, greed, desperation or hubris. If he could find those three things he’d be golden. Mercifully human’s were a generally shallow species prone to bad decisions and overestimating their own abilities. A race track was the perfect place to start, filled with people looking for an easy glory, and who were more than willing to bend the law of the land to get it. America was such a beautifully hypocritical country, built on false morals and stories rested on the thinnest of truths. At least they were dedicated to the lie, Loki’d give them that.

The betting track Loki eventually settled on was in Queens, and when he arrived it was as degenerate as expected. Of course, there were some people who looked like they were genuinely fans of the sport, but it was mostly hoards of people clutching on to the crumpled betting slips they’d poured their latest paycheque onto. Loki spent some time weaving his way through the crowd looking for the perfect mark, it didn’t take him long to find it. The man in question was maybe early middle age - Loki struggled to tell with humans sometimes - and was well dressed compared to lots of the men he’d seen in Brooklyn. His clothes fit well and looked like they could have been tailored, but they were poorly cared for with more than a few stains littering the fabric, and Loki could see the build-up of grime under his fingernails. The current race was almost over as Loki approached him and the man let out a gleeful cheer as the first horse crossed the finish line.

“Congratulations”, Loki said with a feigned smile.

“Well Thanks”, replied the man, more than happy to brag about his successes, “You win anything?”

“Afraid I’ve reached my limit for the day”’.

“Never have a limit, that’s my motto, have to be in it to win it right”.

“I suppose so”, more lies, “The truth is racing isn’t really my element, one thing I miss about home is knowing all the right places, now I have to come all the way to Queens just to place a bet”. The strangers face shifted down and he inched his body ever so closer to Loki’s

“Ya know”, he said, “If you’re looking for something more serious I know a place in the Lower East side if you’re interested that is”.

“Maybe”, replied Loki, and the man pulled what looked like a business card out of his pocket and scribbled something on the back before handing it over.

“Here, if you ever feel like it”, he said, “Now, I better go collect my winnings before betting closes, maybe I’ll see you around sometime”. Loki smiled to himself as the gambler disappeared behind a group of people, this was going to be easier than he’d thought.

XXX

He decided to pass on the casino that night, he’d been awake over twenty-four hours and desperately needed a decent night's sleep that hadn’t been induced by injuries. So he checked into a hotel a block away from the address he’d been given. The room was nice enough, not luxury by any means but the bed was comfy and the water was warm, and it was the first proper bath he’d had in days so he couldn’t complain. He let his mind drift back to Thanos, he was still coming, whether it was the next day or in eighty years it didn’t matter, if he got hold of all the Infinity Stones it was over, one snap and the world was changed forever. Odin should’ve destroyed the Tesseract as soon as he got his hands on it, hiding things away seemed to have a habit of coming back to haunt him.

Loki shot upright in the tub, setting a crash of waves into motion around him. How could he have been so stupid? The war that would dredge the Tesseract from it’s hiding place had already begun, if he could somehow get rid of it before SHIELD ever dug it from the ice then Thanos would never be able to complete his collection. How he’d go about destroying one of the most powerful relics in the universe was a problem for another day, but his mission was suddenly much more pressing, the sooner he got to the war the quicker he’d be able to locate the dreaded thing.

The next night he made his way over to the club. The card the man, who according to the slip of paper was called Frederick Hall, had given him had both the address and a password Loki had to whisper to a guard through the open slat of an iron door. The casino room itself was an odd dichotomy of leaky exposed brick and fine furniture and expensive clothing. It did occur to Loki that, for the first time in his life, he might be painfully underdressed. The bruising on his neck was starting to go down, but wearing the collared shirts he’d bought still felt like they had him in a chokehold, so he’d stuck with the turtleneck and a jacket. The next problem he had was not having the slightest idea how to play any of the games on offer. Of course, they had card games on Asgard but they didn’t even look close to what he was seeing around him. His only course of action was to sit close and observe to try and learn the rules, which was fairly easy for some of the simpler games, the rules of Roulette and Blackjack were pretty self-explanatory, but completely based on luck. He thought about rigging the Roulette wheel using his magic - which was thankfully, if slowly, starting to return - but winning a game of luck over and over again might draw the wrong kind of attention, which was the last thing he needed. Personally, Loki much preferred the look of the poker tables, which appeared to be as much about skill as they did chance. However the rules were far too complex for Loki to learn from observation alone, and he didn't think asking to peruse through a rule book would go down well. After a few hours, he decided the best idea was to save his limited finances, come back after he knew how to play, and see if he could get the proprietors attention somehow.

The New York public library was a welcome sight, Midgardian books were still books after all, and Loki happily spent the following day with his head buried behind one of the stacks making sure he knew every in and out of the game. It was a good job Loki naturally excelled at anything based on deception. By the time night rolled around he was confident that he’d be able to make enough noise to service his own needs. Not to mention that the money wouldn’t go amiss. When he arrived at the club for the second time everything was much the same, except Loki only lingered at the bar for one drink before buying his chips and taking an empty seat at one of the poker tables, waiting for the rather attractive young woman to deal him in. It didn’t take long for Loki to put theory into practice, and as his stack of chips got higher he was happy that all his research had paid off. About an hour later a girl, that bore an uncanny resemblance to the girl working the table, came over and tapped on his shoulder.

“Excuse me sir”, she said, “Mr Bianchi would like to speak to you”. It didn’t sound like a suggestion. Loki was taken from the main room and led to a small section of the club that was separated from the main area by a heavy red curtain. There were three men sat playing cards, the waitress who’d evidently been sent to fetch him pointed for him to take the empty seat at the table whilst she poured the other men drinks.

“So, you’re the guy who’s been winning all my money”, the man, presumably Mr Bianchi, said.

“I believe that is the objective”, replied Loki.

“I see, you’re a funny guy, I can like that already”.

“Mr Bianchi I assume”, said Loki, placing a portion of his chips on the table.

“Well don’t just sit there”, Bianchi said turning to one of his associates, “Deal him in. And yes, you assume correctly, but you see now we’ve got a problem because you know my name and I don’t know yours”.

“Loren Serrure”, at least the name wasn’t entirely picked from a hat.

“Well then Mr Serrure, how long are you in our fine city”.

“Not long I should think”, said Loki, “In fact, I have an issue you might be able to help me with.”

“How so?”

“My identification has been...misplaced, I was hoping you might know somewhere I could find alternatives.”

“British papers?” asked Bianchi.

“Ideally”.

“As it happens, I’ve gotta guy who might be able to help you out. Works outta one of our more...niche establishments, bit busy this time of night, but you look like you’ll fit right it”. Loki, not quite sure what he was getting at, decided to ignore his last comment and stick to the matter at hand.

“Where can I find this...establishment?”

“Brooklyn, Lucy’ll write down the address for ya. Ask for Luca at the bar, we’ll give ‘em a heads up you’re coming”, he sure seemed eager to get Loki out of his club, people winning money probably wasn’t good for business.

“Well then gentlemen”. Loki looked down at his last hand - the other players had all folded except for Bianchi - he had a flush, there was no way he’d lose if he played it, but the man opposite him didn’t look like he cared for losing, especially to someone he’d just offered to help. So he folded, collected his remaining chips and left them to their game, making sure to collect that address from Lucy on his way out.

XXX

He caught a cab to Brooklyn and had it drop him off at the other end of the block to the bar. There was no cryptic password that time and he was let straight in by the doorman. Once inside he understood what Bianchi had meant by ‘niche’, there were men dancing with each other in little pockets across the floor, and a few groups of women, several of whom were dressed in what Loki guessed was considered male clothing. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Bianchi’s jab about how he’d fit in there, he had been to earth enough times to know that, at least in this time period, humans had some less than impressive views on the kinds of relationships Loki saw in front of him. To Odin’s credit, it was something he was always sure to warn him of whenever he suspected his youngest son was going on his travels. The bar itself was in much worse shape than the casino, the only luxury the sweet sounds of a piano tucked away on a makeshift stage. Pressing on, Loki strolled to the bar and caught the attention of the nearest worker.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Luca”, replied Loki.

He gave a knowing look, “Right, I’ll just go an’ get him”. The bartender disappeared behind a metal door next to the racks of liquor and Loki turned his attention to the beautiful music filtering through the club. You’d never be able to tell how old and beat up the piano was by the way it was being played, he couldn’t help but stare at the man behind the keys. He had a black fedora slanting down over half of his face, but his gaze was somehow still filling the dimly lit room, almost as if he was reflecting a light that wasn’t there. Then for a moment, he allowed himself to be lost in the music, free from Thanos and the Tesseract. The trance was broken as quickly as it was induced though, the barman returned and immediately ushered him into a back office.

The room was much more reminiscent of the casino, fine furniture and expensive drinks, and was generally in much better repair than the rest of the club.

“Mr Serrure”, the man’s voice bellowed, Loki was guessing he didn’t get many visitors in the evening, “My associates tell me you are looking to get out of town”.

“That’s correct”, he replied before sitting down opposite Luca’s desk.

“Well, you can call me Luca, and let's see if we can’t get this sorted out for ya”. It was then Loki realised the man was probably at least a little drunk, which would explain the empty whiskey bottle on his desk. “Now you’ll be needing a passport I assume?”

“Yes”. Loki had zero interest in making conversation with a man who sat drunk in luxury as his patrons were forced to socialize in a building that was falling apart.

“The going price for a British passport is two-hundred dollars, but it’ll take a few weeks to makeup, sourcing materials and all that, I take it that works for you”.

“More than”. Ideally, he’d prefer to leave New York as soon as possible, but he didn’t have the time or experience to shop around.

“It’s half upfront and half on collection, do you have the money with you?” Loki kicked himself for losing that last hand, he had enough money with him, but only just and he’d definitely be walking back to Manhattan.

“I have the money”, Loki replied, a little reluctantly. He pulled out his wallet and handed over the cash as Luca wrote him a receipt.

“Pleasure doing business with you Mr Serrure. Feel free to enjoy our facilities before you leave”.

“Thank you”.

Loki headed back to the bar, just catching the end of the ongoing performance and before deciding he had just enough in his pocket for one more drink. The set ended to a small applause from the crowd, and Loki couldn’t help look as the pianist sauntered to the bar and ordered a drink of his own. He was even more attractive up close, removing his hat revealed thick waves of dark brown hair that in it’s unfurled state hung just a little too far down across his face,

“Impressive performance”, the words were out of Loki’s mouth before he could do anything to stop himself.

“Thanks”, he spoke with confidence, but not enough to hide the shy smile pressed into his lips.

“Loki”, he said, allowing himself to forget his persona for the minute and he held out his hand for the other man to shake.

“Bucky”, he replied, taking Loki’s hand after a moment's consideration, “Not from 'round her then”.

“Not quite”, well it wasn’t a lie was it, not that anyone would ever realise how far it was from the truth. His home was a long way away, and technically it didn’t even exist anymore, at least not in Loki’s timeline.

“How long you in town?” Bucky was strangely difficult to read, Loki couldn’t tell if he was suspicious of him or flirting with him, perhaps it was a mix of both or neither.

“A couple of weeks, at least. Do you play here often?”

“At least once a week, I play a few other places, but it’s not always easy to find people to perform here so the pay’s a little better”.

“Good to know it won’t be the last time I can see you”, said Loki, “Play that is”.

“Can’t say I’d mind seeing you in the crowd again”, said Bucky, “Always nice to have something pretty to look at”. Loki damn near choked on his drink, and Bucky’s smile turned to a smirk, clearly not as shy as he’d first presented himself to be. “I’d buy you a drink, but it’s late and I better be heading off”. He downed the rest of his drink and headed for the exit.

“Wait”, Loki called, seeing that he’d left his hat sitting on the bar, “Your hat”.

“Keep it. Gives you a reason to come see me again”. Taking another look at the hat he saw the small red and yellow feather tucked into the ribbon. Loki thought about just letting him walk away, he could always come back and try and catch him again if he wanted too, but he found himself not wanting to leave it to chance.

“Hang on”. Bucky turned back from the door and Loki fumbled getting a napkin to write on, “The number for my Hotel room, just in case you want the hat back”. Bucky tucked the note into his pocket and left without saying another word. Maybe being stuck in New York for a couple of weeks wouldn’t be too bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to say  
> \- I have no idea how much a fake passport cost in the 1940s, I googled how much one cost today and kinda just went from there.  
> \- Also not really got any idea how casino work but gay bars were regularly run by the mafia at the time.


	2. No Dance Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky plucks up the courage to see Loki again, but fresh demons rise to hamper their plans.

Bucky went home that night with a little bit more of a spring in his step then when he'd left, not really thinking anything would come of the evening, but a bit too pleased with his smooth-talk all the same. It always made him feel like a giddy child whenever anyone complimented his music over his pretty face, although he didn’t see why he couldn’t have it both ways. Harmless flirting with a stranger was always fun. The walk home wasn’t long, only ten blocks or so, and he found it a calming way to clear his head after a night’s work. He hadn’t lied when he said he played other places, but Luca’s was his only steady gig, and he’d pick up odd jobs when they came up but work in general was still hard to come by. Granted, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as when he was a kid, and things were getting better as time went on.

   When he got back to the apartment he found Steve fast asleep on the couch, again, Bucky swore the idiot barely ever slept in his bed the number of times he’d come home to find him like that. Waking him would only mean he’d have to try and fall asleep again, so Bucky just draped a blanket over him and crept into his own room. He’d finally convinced Steve to let him move in with him a few months earlier, which had been as much for his own benefit as it was his friend’s. At the end of the day, Steve asked a lot fewer questions about where he spent his nights than his parents. Whether Steve ‘knew’ or not was anybody’s guess, they knew everything else about each other so it seemed strange they’d have that one thing left out. On the other hand, Steve never batted an eye when Bucky said he was going out with a girl. Either way, it wasn’t something he planned on bringing up anytime soon, a few secrets were better than risking his best friend after all. It was just easier to climb into bed at the end of the day and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist, despite its rough sheets, emptiness, and aging frame.

XXX

“Oh come on, you’ve gotta call him”, insisted Connie, slapping Bucky playfully with one of her pillows. He’d auditioned to perform at a club a few weeks earlier, and was supposed to be finding out if he’d gotten it within the next few hours. However, he and Steve barely had electricity let alone a phone line, so Connie had offered up the one in her boarding house, the only problem with that though was that boys were very much not allowed further than the staircase. That meant the early hours of the morning had been spent climbing in through his friends, thankfully only first floor, bedroom window. The rule was entirely ridiculous since Bucky obviously wasn’t interested and Connie would have much rather have been locked in a room with Debra from across the hall.

“No I don’t”, replied Bucky, regretful he’d even mentioned the dashing stranger, “I mean what sorta name is Loki anyway?”

“Say’s the guy called Bucky”. Which was a fair point, he’d always wondered why his parents decided on President Buchanan, of all people, as his namesake.

“Okay well what about the fact I saw him leaving Luca’s office, what if he works for him, that guy is shady as hell”.

“You do realise you work for Luca”, Bonnie reminded him. She looked like she was about to say something more, but there was a knock at the door before she could.

“Connie, you’ve gotta phone call”, said one of the other girls, possibly Debra. Bucky had told them to expect a woman to answer and to ask for Connie, which they thankfully hadn’t questioned. Connie shot from the room, Bucky lingering awkwardly in the doorway behind her.

“Bonnie”, she called down the hall, “Go make sure Mrs. Wilson doesn’t come down”. Bonnie bolted down the corridor to stand on guard and Bucky ran to grab the receiver. There was a crowd of girls gathered around him as he listened to the call.

“Thank you sir”, he said, and Connie looked like she was about to explode, “I will do sir”. He hung up the phone and was met with half a dozen faces of anticipation, “I got it!” Connie lept in for a hug as the other girls squealed in excitement, knowing full well that Connie would probably invite them to the show.

The celebration was thwarted when Bonnie’s unusually loud voice came into earshot, “Yes, Mrs. Wilson, you are so right”. Bucky was promptly shoved back behind Connie’s door and the other residents scattered away from the phone. The pair sat in silence as they waited for the heavy footsteps to fade away before returning to their celebration. Bucky couldn’t believe it, the venue was a cocktail bar in the lower east side, a million times nicer than anywhere he’d ever been paid to play before. He was going to perform in a real bar, with drinks that weren’t watered down and a functioning bathroom.

“You have to invite that guy!” declared Connie, hopping on the window ledge and lighting up a cigarette.

“What, come on, No!”

“You said he liked your playing”.

“Maybe so”, said Bucky, “But even if I did want to invite him, Steve’s gonna be there, this isn’t some back alley club where anything goes”.

“I said invite him, not make out with him, Steve doesn’t need to know why he’s there”. Which was true, but the idea of his two worlds colliding like that scared the shit out of him. It was one thing for Connie to be there, no one would question that, but Bucky hated it when he had to lie to Steve, it always felt like he was betraying himself somehow. “Look”, said Connie, “Invite him don’t invite him, but you said he was only in town a couple’a weeks, so whattaya got to lose by at least calling?”

Those words played over in his head as he walked home later that day, the worst that would happen is Loki said no, and then in a few weeks he’d be gone and Bucky would never have had to see him again. He hesitated as he passed the phone booth at the end of his block, the show was in three days if he didn’t do it right there and then he knew he never would. He shuffled into the booth and slowly dialed to the number, his foot tapped frantically as he waited for someone to pick up.

“Rose Oak Hotel, how can I help you?” said the receptionist.

“Hey, um room 107 please”, replied Bucky, suddenly realizing he’d never called a hotel room before and didn’t really know the etiquette.

“One moment please”. The phone started ringing again, and Bucky wondered if he should just hang up whilst he still could.

“Hello”, the unmistakable voice not giving him a chance to make up his mind “Hello?” Loki repeated thanks to Bucky’s paralyzing silence.

“Hi”, he finally managed, “It’s Bucky, from the club the other night”.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you”.

“Uhh, me neither, but I have this show on Thursday at the Kismet, it’s a bar, not far from where you’re staying actually and I was wondering if you’d maybe like to come?” Bucky’s rambling didn’t escape his notice, and he cringed at his own words as he waited for a reply, “If you’re busy or just don’t want to then it’s fine”.

“No, I’d very much like to come”, he said, saving Bucky from fumbling over any more words, “What time?”

“The show starts at 8”.

“I’ll see you there then”.

“Right, umm bye then”.

“Goodbye Bucky”. The line went dead and Bucky had to hold the receiver to his chest as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal. He could hardly walk in a straight line, it was as if a drunken stupor had taken over him and he had to restrain his smile as he made his way back home.

XXX

The night of the performance came and Bucky wasn’t sure if he was more nervous about getting on stage or seeing Loki again, he must’ve changed his tie a dozen times, which was impressive seeing as him and Steve only owned four between them.

“Hey Buck”, Steve called for him through the door, “You almost ready? Otherwise, you’re gonna be late to your own show”. Bucky took a deep breath and finally settled on the black skinny tie.

“How’d I look?” He asked, putting on a little twirl as he stepped out of his room.

“You look fine Bucky”, said Steve, “Whatcha so nervous about anyway, you’ve played a million times before, you’ll do great”. He knew Steve was only trying to encourage him but what was he supposed to say? That his big night had been commandeered as a sort of first date between him and a stranger he didn’t know anything about, and a male stranger at that. The only realistic option was to laugh it off and pretend the only thing making his stomach churn was stage fright.

The bar was already filling out by the time Steve and Bucky arrived, no sign of Loki yet. Which Bucky didn’t mind, he wasn’t sure he wanted him and Steve running into each other if it could be avoided. The owner came over to greet him and show him to the small backstage area whilst Steve went to get them drinks.

“Nervous?” asked Mr. Richards.

“A little”, he admitted, it dawned on him how much he couldn’t afford to screw it up, Richards wouldn’t only not pay him but he’d probably never work anywhere decent again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do great”. Bucky silently cursed Connie for convincing him to add to his nerves by inviting Loki.

However, when he emerged from behind the curtain he was nowhere to be seen and Bucky wondered if he’d changed his mind, maybe he’d just agreed to come to get him off the phone. Bucky didn’t think he’d sounded annoyed or irritated by the invitation, although it was difficult to tell what someone was actually thinking over the phone. His stomach had hit the floor by the time he took his seat behind the piano as Richards introduced him to the audience, but just as he was about to start playing he saw the door open and Loki shuffled through the crowd to one of the free tables near the window. Until then he hadn’t thought about how much he’d been looking forward to seeing him again, any feelings of joy had been buried behind a wall of his own nerves and dreadful anticipation, but with all that lifted he didn’t even have to think about the piano, his hands just danced along the keys in perfect harmony for hour after hour, right up until Richards gave him the wave and closed out the set. The grateful applause from the, by then, packed bar left Bucky beaming as he bounced off the stage into the pure enthusiasm of Steve and Connie.

“Oh my God, Bucky that was amazing”, said Connie, not hesitating to bring him in for a hug,

“You did great Buck”, echoed Steve, with unconditional pride for his best friend, “I’m gonna go get another drink, you want anything?”

“No, I’m good”, the endorphins rushing through his body were more than enough, and he let Steve melt into the crowded bar, only slightly worried that he might get crushed.

“So”, a still giddy Connie asked, “Where is he?” Bucky rolled his eyes before pointing to the table Loki was still sitting at, the two men catching each other's eyes in the process.

“Hey, do you mind making sure Steve stays occupied while I go talk to him?”

“What do you think?” but the clueless Bucky didn’t move, “Go!” she yelled and he took no time darting through the hoards to get to Loki’s table.

“Hi”, said Loki as soon as Bucky was in earshot, “That was quite the performance, once again”.

“Thanks”, stuttered Bucky, “You look nice”. He wasn’t really sure what the deal with the turtlenecks was seeing how it was sixty-five degrees outside, maybe it was a European thing? Either way, Bucky had a feeling there wasn’t much Loki could look bad in, so he wasn’t about to dwell on it.

“Oh, I brought you something”. Bucky was about to object but Loki was reaching into his pocket before he could get a word out. “Here”, he said placing the small object in Bucky’s hand, lingering slightly longer than he had to. Bucky looked down and his eyes lit up.

“The feather from my hat”. He’d found it years earlier during one of his and Steve’s trips to Coney Island, and had only stuck it in the ribbon of his old fedora to try and make it look like one he’d seen in a store window as a kid. In truth, he’d almost entirely forgotten about it until he was holding it in his hands again, “Thank you”. They made small talk for a while, happily lost in their own little bubble, willfully ignorant of the world around them. Bucky gushed about how well his little sister was doing in school and Loki traded stories about the trouble he and his brother would get into as kids.

“What about your parents?” It was an innocent enough question on Bucky’s part, but he could feel the mood shift as Loki’s face twitched and he started to pick at the skin around the nails on his left hand, obviously some kind of nervous habit judging by the damage that was already there.

“Both gone now I’m afraid”. Loki continued to pick at his hand as his eyes shifted away from Bucky and gazed out onto the rest of the bar. Bucky recognised the look, it was the same one Steve made whenever anyone brought up his parents, especially just after his mother’s death.

“So is it just you and your brother?”

“Hopefully”, Loki laughed a little, obviously there was more to his story, he wore a look that was as much worry as it was sadness.

“He a soldier?” If there was a good enough reason to worry about the people you loved it was war.

“The best”, said Loki, voice beaming with familial pride, “Far better than I ever was”.

“Not a soldier then?” asked Bucky, happy for a way to shift the subject.

“No, I always found my talents lay elsewhere”. For a moment Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his date meant by that, but his thoughts were distracted by the continued look of sorrow on Loki’s face.

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine”. Bucky stretched his hand out over Loki’s like an instinct, snapping it away upon remembering where he was, “Sorry”, he said, “About bringing up your family”.

“Don’t be”, said Loki, “I mean it, my family was a dysfunctional nightmare long before either of us were ever even born”. Jesus, Bucky couldn’t help wonder what he wasn’t telling him. “But if you must know, I’d much rather be having this conversation somewhere more private”. It was clearly a deflection, a way to get out of having an uncomfortable conversation, but that smile was more than charming, it was intoxicating. “My hotel room’s only a few blocks away”.

“That sounds great”, said Bucky despite his best sense telling him otherwise, “But let me just tell my friends I’m leaving”.

“Of course, I’ll meet you outside”. he said, collecting his things from the table and heading for the door as Bucky morphed into the crowd to try and find Connie and Steve. The bar was densely packed so it took him a few minutes to find the corner Connie was crushed in.

“Hey”, he said tapping her on the shoulder, “Where’s Steve I’m gonna get going”.

“In the bathroom. Where you off to?”

“With Loki”. Connie looked at him disapprovingly. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one that wanted me to invite him”.

“What the hell am I supposed to tell Steve?”

“I dunno make something up, and make sure he gets home without getting beaten up will ya”.

“You owe me for this Bucky Barnes”.

“I know I do”. Bucky planted a cheeky kiss on her cheek before turning back to the crowd. He felt bad getting Connie to lie to Steve, but if he was being honest he prefered that than doing it himself.

Loki was waiting for him outside, content with staring absentmindedly into the distance. Bucky couldn’t help think how beautiful he looked like that, not so much sad anymore, but just content, as if his eyes had lived a thousand lifetimes.

“You ready?” asked Bucky, taking the risk to run his hand down Loki’s back. The walk wasn’t long, but they spent most of it in comfortable silence. It was unusually quiet for a Friday night in Manhattan and Bucky thought more than once about how much he wanted to take Loki’s hand and just walk around like that for hours. It was hard to imagine without anything going wrong though, so Bucky tried to push the intruding thought from his mind.

When they got to the Hotel Bucky felt his heart jump into his throat, it was rare he ever spent a night in Manhattan and he had definitely never stayed anywhere that looked that nice from the outside. Although definitely on the lower end of upmarket, he normally stayed in more ‘no question asked’ kind of establishments and he was slightly concerned that they were going to be stopped before they got to the room. Thankfully, they made it up without question and the room itself was even nicer than the building. Bucky stood in awe whilst Loki poured them drinks, but after a few sips he was uninterested by the pretence and stepped close enough to lock their lips together, eager to seal the dance they’d been playing since Luca’s. This was always where they ended up, with Loki pushed up against the wall and Bucky running his fingers through his hair. He could have stayed like that forever, he hung his arm around Loki’s neck with the intent of pulling their bodies even closer together, but as his fingers curled into his skin he was met by wide eyes and Loki fumbled back away from him. His breathing started to falter as he swayed to the other side of the room and soon he was frantically tugging at the collar of his shirt to the point that it tore right down to his collarbone. It was then that Bucky saw them, he’d seen enough of on Steve to know they were only a week or so old, still a myriad of yellow and dark purples. As he was staring, Loki had half collapsed against the foot of the bed, his head in his hands whilst he tried to regulate his breathing.

“I’m sorry”, Loki mumbled, “This isn’t your fault”.

“What happened?” Bucky slumped down next to him, cautiously resting his hand over Loki’s until he sat up straight again.

“It’s complicated”.

“You know, I’m starting to think there’s nothing about you that’s simple?”

“Not really”, he replied with a small laugh, “Is that a problem?”

“No”. Bucky surprised himself with his own answer, any relationship he entered (however brief) was complicated by nature, usually, the more he could limit that the better. However as cliché, as it might have been, Loki was like nobody he’d ever met, which made him dangerous in more ways than one, but maybe that’s what was so intriguing about him. His entire life, Bucky had been the careful one, he hadn’t had much choice in the matter, and there was something liberating about throwing himself headfirst into the unknown. Loki leant forward, meeting Bucky’s lips with a certain desperation that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey”, Bucky whispered between kisses, “We don’t have to do anything, I can come back another time”.

“I know”, said Loki, “But I want you to stay. Please?”

“I’ll stay as long as you need”.

XXX

Bucky woke up with Loki’s arms wrapped around his waist, still sleeping soundly next to him. When Loki had discarded the remnants of his shirt Bucky had been shocked at the extent of his injuries, there were bruises and cuts over most of his body and some looked more like scars than fresh wounds. He’d promised not to pry, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him, after all, he’d said he wasn’t a soldier and he was a good couple inches taller than Bucky and was definitely better built. Who’d think it was a good idea to attack him, and Bucky shuddered as to think why. When Loki stirred awake he leapt away from him, scrambling to run his hands through his hair.

“Woah, it’s okay”, promised Bucky, “Nobody’s gonna hurt you”.

“Sorry”, sighed Loki, sinking back into Bucky’s arms, “I just didn’t think you’d still be here”.

“Don’t worry, I get it”. Bucky wasn’t usually a huge fan of sleepovers himself. “Hey, besides we’ve all got our shit”. The pair stayed like that for a while, happy to enjoy the crevices of each other's bodies, before Bucky spoke again, “What if we went away”, it sounded like a great idea in his head, “Not anywhere far, just down to Rockaway for a couple days, they got places there where they don’t care all that much about people like us if you get what I’m saying”. Bucky realised he might’ve just been rambling through the silence when he didn’t hear a response, “Unless you think it’s a dumb idea, we don’t have too”.

“Actually that sounds like just what I need right about now”. Loki smiled and pressed a kiss into Bucky’s torso, who, even if it was just a fling, was more than willing to squeeze every day out of it.


	3. Plans and Prejudice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this a day late, Chapter 3 & 4 are a little shorter so I decided to post both of them at the last minute and just had no time yesterday to do a final edit of Chapter 4.

They spent the rest of the morning planning their trip, Loki more than happy to listen to Bucky go on about all the places he wanted to show him, from hotels to beaches to coffee shops, it made him start to wonder if he’d ever actually been on vacation before. Sakaar didn’t really count, sure there had been a few weeks of parties and sex, but any journey that began with being thrown to near certain death and ended with armed robbery wasn’t really a holiday in Loki’s eyes. Eventually, Bucky had to go, however reluctant he was to leave Loki alone after what had happened, in spite of Loki’s continuing insistence that he was fine and promises that they would speak later. However, once alone Loki found himself no less excited than he had been curled up in bed, all the while increasingly aware that those next couple of weeks would be the last moments of respite he’d have before throwing himself into his search for the Tesseract. Perhaps treating all the time he had left in New York like a Vacation would do him some good. 

Unfortunately, last night had proven just how scared he was, from Thanos, from Ragnarok, from Odin’s death even. He wondered if his father would have been proud of him, he wondered why he hadn’t returned to Asgard once he’d broken his youngest sons spell. It wouldn’t have been easy but he could have done it, was he that ashamed of himself, of what he’d done to Hela? How strange it was that after all he’d tried to do to be free of Odin, it was only upon his death he found himself with a million new questions. You sound like him, Hela’s words echoed in his ears as he stared down his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the marks around his neck were almost faded at the front but the sides were still a sickly yellow colour and Loki cursed himself for cutting his hair short. Was he really like Odin? A king who’d worn his scars like a badge of pride, whilst all Loki wanted to do was hide them, he tried casting an illusion but they kept glitching, refusing to allow the proof of his attack to be hidden. 

He managed to reduce the bruising by plunging himself into an almost scalding hot bath, turning his skin a raw shade of scarlet in the process. With his entire body submerged he almost didn’t hear the mechanical ringing of the phone from the other room and he had to leap to catch it before it rang out.

“Hello”, he said with the receiver balanced between his ear and neck as he brushed his hands dry with a towel. 

“Hey”. Loki smiled at the by then recognisable Brooklyn drawl. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay”.

“And here’s me thinking you were just being generous when you said you’d call”.

“Maybe I just didn’t want you to forget about me”.

“Somehow I find that unlikely”. They both laughed at the corniness of Loki’s answer, but it was true, Bucky Barnes had made a mark in what had been an exceedingly extraordinary few weeks, even for the God of Mischief himself. 

“You wanna talk about it?” asked Bucky, “Last night I mean?” Loki could feel his breath falter, as the question made its way down the line.

“It’s-”

“Complicated”, Bucky cut him off, “I know, and you don’t have to say anything, but I’m here to listen if you need me to”.

“Bucky”, Loki paused, contemplating his next move, “It’s not that I… It’s just, there are things about me, about my life that I can’t tell you, in fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to tell anyone. Not for a very long time at least”. For a split second, he thought about telling the truth, laying everything bare, wondered how good it might feel to finally tell somebody everything, about Thanos, the infinity stones, spill all the secrets he’d held onto because his life had depended on it. The only problem was there was a very good chance his life still depended on the long list of veiled tales he’d woven himself through over the years. Not to mention that Bucky was a real person, who’d lived a very real life, one where he’d never met a God that had fallen from a universe on the brink of disaster. Frigga had once warned him about the dangers of toying with time, if it had to be done, it must be carefully and with respect. Just knowing Bucky was a risk, albeit one he was willing to take, and the last thing he wanted to do was put him in any unnecessary danger. “I swear to you, I’d tell you everything if I could”.

There was silence, and Loki feared he’d ruined his chances at an already fleeting moment of happiness. “Okay”, Bucky finally said, “Just, promise not to lie to me, I don’t care if you have secrets, just don’t lie about it when you do”.

“I can manage that”, he replied. Loki had a lifetime of lies behind him, and he prayed that he hadn’t just added to the list. “I wish you were here”, he said, “That way we could finish what we started last night”.

“Oh, now that’s something I could hear more about”. Loki smiled crookedly to himself and ran his tongue across his teeth before rattling off the long list of things he wanted to do to the man on the other end of the phone. He made sure to list every nook and crevice he wanted to grab onto, drawing out every single detail of what he’d do if Bucky had been in front of him right that second, not to mention everything he wanted Bucky to do to him. After what had been a painful day Loki enjoyed causing some harmless mischief with his new beau and judging by the heavy breathing on the other end of the phone Bucky didn’t mind it either.

“You know I’m in a phone booth, anybody could walk by”, said Bucky playfully.

“Then why don’t you come over”.

Bucky sighed, “I wish I could, but my roommate managed to get into a fight with a guy twice his size and he’s pretty banged up”.

“Should I be jealous”, because he definitely was.

“Oh my God no, I just don’t wanna leave him alone in case he tries to do anything stupid again”.

“Do you need to stay with him this weekend, we can always go away another time”.

“What? No, he’ll be fine. Believe me, this happens way more often than it should”.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Definitely, we can meet at the hotel before we get the train”, said Bucky, just before Loki heard a loud banging sound from the other end of the phone, “Yeah one minute”, he said, “Sorry someone’s waiting to use the phone”.

“Until tomorrow then”, said Loki, “I hope your friend feels better”.

“Thanks”. More banging. “Alright, alright, I’m done”, was the last thing Loki heard before the line went dead.


	4. Like a Dam

It took every ounce of self-control to stop Bucky from throwing the receiver at the increasingly impatient woman loitering an inch from the wooden box. Although it was probably a good job she showed up when she did, Bucky could have more than easily spent every nickel he had talking to Loki and to be honest he could do with saving the money for more life and death matters. Especially since he was skipping a weekend's worth of work to spend it in on the beach, he had to tell himself that he could always pick up a few shifts behind the bar at Luca’s to make up for it.

When he got home, Steve was still sprawled out on the couch with a bag of ice pressed to his lip. It was exactly where Bucky had left him before he’d gone out.

“Hey, I’m home”, he called from the doorway, “You okay?” Steve simply let out a non-descript groan, which he should’ve known Bucky wouldn’t take as an answer before he stormed over to check his wounds for the hundredth time.

“Stop fussing will ya”, said Steve, swatting Bucky away with his arms, “I’m fine”.

“Well good”, he replied, “Because a friend of mine’s gotta job moving some rich ladies furniture to her beach house down in Rockaway, needs a hand. No one's using it so we’re gonna stay the night and as long as you’re all good here?”

“I’m not a child Buck”.

“Then stop picking fights with guys twice your size and I won’t have to treat ya like one”.

“I’ll survive two days without you”, Steve assured him, “Nothing dangerous, I swear”.

“You better be telling the truth, seeing how last time I left you alone you wound up with your ass kicked in a back alley”.

“Well, maybe next time you won’t leave me to go to some dumb party”. Bucky froze, realising he had no idea what Connie had told Steve to excuse his absence

“Yeah well you hate those sorta things”, he justified, “Besides you get more than a couple drinks in you and you get even dumber than usual”. That was true, Steve’s small stature and general sickliness made him the biggest lightweight the right side of the Brooklyn Bridge. He’d thought about telling Steve the truth a million times before, too many times, but the words always got stuck in his throat before he could string a sentence together. There was no way he knew, Steve couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, although he might very well say the same about Bucky, and half his life had been a lie.

He left Steve to his self-piteous recovery and went to his room to pack. It was a sad little duffle bag with a few sad little things in it, and staring down at the collection he wondered what Loki saw in him? It wasn’t the patched up clothes or low rent haircut, but whatever it was had been enough to ask him to stay after it became clear that Loki was in no state to be sleeping with anyone, much less a man he’d only known a few days. The thought of being needed bore a warm feeling in Bucky’s stomach, it was safe to say that his life was a little bit lacking in the area of unconditional emotional connection. He had Steve and his family, who he of course loved, but Bucky had accepted a long time ago that there would always almost certainly be a distance between them. Not that he thought they needed to know everything about him to love him back, or for that love to be real. It was sort of like a dam, sure he could climb to the top and look out over the edge and maybe take a glass from the reservoir, but it the wall started to crack it could easily destroy everything he’d built on the other side.

Once he was finished packing he went back out to meet Connie, this time risking the judgement of the ever weary Mrs. Wilson by using the front door, which meant he had to wait in the common room whilst one of the other girls went to fetch her.

“So”, said Mrs. Wilson, with enough gump to startle a man almost twice her size, “I take it you two have been seeing each other for some time”.

“We’re just friends, Mrs. Wilson”. It was the same sentence he repeated every time he would visit Connie, and it was always met with the same disapproving look from the ageing landlady.

“In my experience Mr. Barnes, young men are very rarely interested in friendships with my girls”.

“Well, my mother always told me there’s an exception to every rule”. Bucky could see a response brewing on her lips and was almost disappointed when Connie shot around the corner and sent her on her way.

“Did you bring it?” he asked, not interested in any chit-chat that could prolong his time under Mrs. Wilson’s beady glare.

“I did”, she said pulling the small set of brass keys from her pocket, “But for the record, I have objections to this little trip of yours”. Bucky ignored her and snatched the keys from her hands.

“You know I would never have even called the guy if it wasn’t for you”, Bucky reminded her, “So really it’s all your fault. You’re just mad I made you lie to Steve”.

“Not the point, but yeah when I thought it was gonna be a quick romp in the sheets, I didn’t realise you were making a beach vacation out of it”.

“It’s two days, besides I think you need to be gainfully employed before you can take a vacation”.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt Bucky, because in a couple weeks he’s gonna set sail and you’ll never hear a peep again”, said Connie, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I know what this is Connie”, he said, “I know all this is”, he really did, but even if it was just temporary it felt like it could be too good to let go of before he had to.

“Then have fun”, she said placing a kiss on his cheek, which surely drew the gaze of the disapproving landlady.

“You like pissing her off don’t you?”

“A little”. Bucky snickered under his breath and wondered what scandalous thoughts were traumatising Mrs. Wilson as she watched in horror.

“Thank you”, he said, “And give your brother a heads up that we’ll be there, last thing we need is any interruptions, not unless he wants us to give the little old lady a stroke”. The keys Connie had given him were for a beach house in Rockaway that belonged to her brother’s boss, an ageing widow who hadn’t even looked in on the place in decades. How Connie had convinced him to give her a set of keys was beyond Bucky, but he was grateful for the freebie. He was surprised no one had been caught in all honesty with the number of people Connie offered the place up to, Bucky had seen her hand them off to everyone from close friends to practical strangers. Perhaps the biggest conundrum was how it was yet to be burgled by one of them. Personally, Bucky had only been once, a disastrous double date that Connie had dragged him on, he was only thankful that the experience hadn’t ruined a perfectly good location and he couldn’t wait to make some memories there with a person he actually wanted to be with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm English and had a wild time finding out what American phone boxes looked like in the 40s  
> \- Also I edited this hungover so if you notice any grammar errors etc. please let me know!


	5. Vacation of the Hour

 

Loki was up ludicrously early Saturday morning, he had to roll his eyes at how much he felt like a giddy child, he kept reminding himself that it was just an overnight trip to the beach but it didn’t do anything to quell his excitement as he stood outside the hotel waiting for Bucky to show up, the pair piling into the nearest Taxi as soon as he did.

The journey in total was well over an hour, between the two taxis and the train it was gone lunchtime by the time they arrived at the rather impressive looking building, a mere stone's throw away from the beach. The only difference between that house and it’s copy-and-pasted blue siding and white trim clad neighbours was how faded it looked, the garden was overgrown, the mailbox was rusty, and where the paint wasn’t worn down it had chipped off. The pattern continued inside, most of the furniture was covered in at about three and something layers of dust and everything was at least a decade old.

“Whose house is this?” asked Loki, a little suspiciously.

“A friend of mines brother is a chauffeur, this is his bosses place”, explained Bucky, “Don’t worry, she’s like eighty, there’s no chance she’s showing up”.

“I didn’t have you down as devious Barnes”, he joked, “I’m impressed”. They closed the door behind them and Loki wasted no time in pushing Bucky against the wall and dousing him in kisses, delighted to finally be alone after not being able to lay a finger on him the entire trip down. “I’ve missed those lips”.

“It’s been one day”, Bucky giggled as Loki trailed kisses along his slightly open shirt collar and he could feel himself starting to get excited down below. “Uh uh, this can wait”. Loki let out a soft moan as he pulled away from the smaller man’s body before being hoisted up around his waist, damn Bucky was strong. It was impressive he could even pick him up, however, it was just as well Loki’s magic was making a return otherwise they probably would’ve ended up in a heap on the floor. “We are going to the beach before we get distracted”. Loki let Bucky carry him to the bedroom, thighs clamped tight around his waist, only letting go as he was dropped gently onto the master bed. “I’m gonna go get changed”, said Bucky, placing one last kiss on Loki’s lips before closing the bedroom door behind him. It occurred to Loki that Bucky might be scared of pushing things after his reaction the other night, especially since there wasn’t much he could do in way of reassuring him that it had nothing to do with him. He felt ridiculous about the whole thing, in his mind he wanted nothing more than for Bucky to grab hold of every inch of him and leave his mark, but he squirmed at the thought of Bucky touching him there, especially when the damage was still so painfully obvious. He could hardly even stomach his own hand brushing the surface of his marred skin. The more he thought about it the more his already fragile mind spiraled, what if it wasn’t just his injuries? What if all of it was too much, the contact, the skin, the intimacy of it all? What if that ship had been the thing that finally broke him all the way through? Imagining the possibility terrified him because Loki liked sex and he was good at it, men, women, people who weren’t either, a thousand years is enough time to build an extensive repertoire. Perhaps he’d never had the healthiest relationship to physical intimacy but the idea of being too damaged to even try was horrifying.

Loki took a deep breath and tried to regain his senses, there was no point thinking about it until the moment came, which if Bucky’s apprehension was anything to go by could be never. So he pushed everything from his mind and changed into his beach clothes, which given the less than presentable state of his body was far less revealing than was ideal and he only hoped he wouldn’t receive any strange looks for leaving his shirt and neckerchief on once they got there. He must have been taking a while because Bucky knocked on the door at one point to ask if he was okay, so he quickly finished off getting ready and went out to join him.

XXX

When they got to the beach it was busier than he’d expected, clearly full of people trying to soak up the last of the summer sun before Fall rolled in with a harsh Winter on its tail. There was a good mix of patrons, young couples, families and groups of friends alike, but before Loki could analyse them further Bucky was leading him to a slightly more secluded section of the beach. It was almost like there was a physical line in the sand, once they passed it Loki could feel Bucky relax in a way he hadn’t seen before. He recalled how he’d yanked his hand away at Kismet, the look of fear he’d seen in Bucky’s eyes was astounding when compared to how he guided him to a small spot in the heat of the sun with one hand nestled into the crook of his back.

“I see why you like it here”, said Loki as they unpacked their things onto the sand.

“I’ve been dying to come back for ages”, he explained, “Last time I was here, ahh, it doesn’t matter”, his smile turned to blush, much to Loki’s amusement.

“What happened?” They had finished getting sorted and Bucky was led on his back with his shirt discarded to the side of him.

“Nothing really, that was kinda the problem, my friend dragged me down here on a double date”.

“I take it didn’t go well”.

“Not even close”, Bucky laughed, “He just kept going on and on about this guy he’d been seeing ‘Simon hated the beach’ this and ‘he would never have come here with me’ that, it was so awkward”. Loki couldn’t help but laugh at Bucky’s past misfortune. “What about you?” he asked, “What’s the worst date you ever been on?”

“I don’t know”, admitted Loki, ‘dating’ in the human sense wasn’t something he’d ever really done, “My family always treated relationships as more...political than anything else. Dates never really came into it”.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, “Wow, you really do come from somewhere don’t you”.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little”, Bucky said with a grimace, “I don’t mind though, providing you don’t mind slumming it down here with the little people”.

“Believe me I don’t. Who was it that said the only happy people are those in the middle and that the top and bottom are doomed for misery”, Loki recalled the sentiment from a Midgardian book he’d once read, awfully dull in its entirety but there had been a few things intelligent enough to score themselves into Loki’s memory.

“I have no idea”, replied Bucky.

“Either way, who  _ I _ associated with was of very little interest to my father, curse of the youngest son”, Loki sighed thinking of all of Odin’s mistake, he liked to think that he could one day forgive him now that everything had been destroyed, but Loki had never been that chivalrous, “Not that he had any idea what he wanted from his children, except for us to fix his mistakes”.

“Sounds like a tough guy”.

“He wanted to be good, which is more than nothing I suppose. In the end, I think he was just tired of it all”. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t returned to Asgard after he’d broken Loki’s spell, maybe he was just too exhausted to deal with the consequences of his actions. Deep in his contemplation, Loki hadn’t noticed that Bucky had intertwined their fingers together, only separated by the tiny grains of sand caught on their skin.

They spent a few more hours laying on the beach, making comfortable small talk about nothing in particular, deciding to leave once the cooler evening air crept in and switched to traipsing through the litany of tourist traps. It was mostly gift shops and a few bars and restaurants that seemed insistent on overcharging for everything from drinks to souvenirs. Only making their way back to the house after they’d grabbed something to eat. Once back Bucky wasted no time in fiddling with the ageing radio in the corner of the living room, and after a good whack, it burst to life, soft jazz filling up space between them.

“May I?” asked Bucky, with his arm held out and a sly smile gracing his lips.

Loki laughed unable to remember the last time anyone had asked him to dance outside of obligation, “You may”, he replied more than happy to take Bucky’s hand and pull him into his chest, Loki looped his long arms around the shorter man’s shoulders and let him slide his own hands onto his waist. They swayed to the music for a while, rather badly in Bucky’s case, for someone who could play so spectacularly he was a truly terrible dancer. The temptation to break their comfortable stance was too much and soon Loki was leaning down into a slow drawn out kiss that moved back and forth to the music still playing in the background. The heat between their bodies rose as Bucky clawed at Loki’s shirt and their breathing fell out of rhythm.

“Wait”, whispered Loki, pulling his head far enough back to rest their foreheads together and say something that surprised himself, “I’m scared”, which wasn’t new, he’d spent a good proportion of his life scared of one thing or another, but to say it out loud had been unthinkable. Fear was a weakness, but for the first time in a thousand years, he didn’t mind feeling weak around someone other than himself.

“It’s okay”, Bucky promised, “You can tell me. What scares you?” Loki thought about Thanos, about how close he’d been to death, he remembered the battle of New York and the Chitauri, The Other’s words rang out in his head, He will make you long for something as sweet as pain. The awful truth of it was that there wasn’t much of him Thanos hadn’t touched. Wielding an infinity stone in your bare hands was no easy task, the only way to stop it burning through you was to give yourself to it entirely. He’d never even seen Odin hold the tesseract unguarded. Had Thanos always known it ended that way? Was that what all the pain had been for? Just to make sure the end result was Loki handing over the tesseract, knowing that even if he escaped with his life it would be the last straw? In truth, the list of things Loki feared was too long and too confusing to try and explain so he decided to keep it simple.

“I’m scared that I’m broken, too broken to do this the way I want to”, the words were quiet and dry leaving Loki’s lips, and he thought Bucky might just run, he wouldn’t have blamed him.

“Hey”. Loki really loved the way he said that. “It’s fine, we can go as slow or as fast as you need, just tell me when to stop”. Their lips briefly reconnected before Bucky moved his attention lower, pawing the buttons of Loki’s shirt open, there was a respectful hunger in the way he dragged his tongue across his partners exposed torso, periodically lifting his eyes upwards. He moved lower and lower until...oh God. Loki’s eyes bulged as the fastenings on his shorts came undone, his body clearly had no qualms with what was about to happen, but he needed more time. He pulled Bucky all the way up into his arms and carried him to the bedroom, music still drifting through the open door as Loki returned the favour and dispensed with Bucky’s shirt and trousers. Which still left him with his shirt half open and a hidden neck, Bucky knelt on the bed so they were at thigh level and slowly pulled the remaining cloth from his shoulders, Loki moving his hand to his neck in turn.

“You don’t have to”, Bucky said, running one hand through Loki’s hair.

Loki nodded, but with shaky fingers he did it anyway, willing to make himself bare, exposing his battle damaged body for everything it was. Bucky had seen him before, but this time it felt different, he knew what was about to happen, more than that, he craved it. His heart raced as he imagined how each touch would feel, how Bucky himself would feel, “I want to”. They kissed again, this time Bucky was flat on top of him, their bodies grinding together kiss after kiss.

“Oh my God”, Bucky moaned, his accent making it sound even more sultry than it needed, his breathing increased as Loki felt him encroaching closer and closer to him, “I want you”, it was nothing more than a whisper of desire.

“I’m not stopping you”, said Loki.

“Are you sure?”

“Please”, the desperation brought a smile to Bucky’s lips and after that, there was no stopping them. The pace of the night intensified as the sun set lower and lower down the horizon, the fear covered by the encroaching darkness. A temporary reprieve, Loki knew but welcomed all the same. There was a safety Loki felt in that bed, in that place, with that man who always managed to say the right thing even when he didn’t.

Sure enough, when the sun rose the next morning the pain came back, but it shuffled in slowly, no longer a predator making an attack on his sanity. There had still been nightmares drifting through his brain as he slept, but for once the nightmare had a happy ending that didn’t force him violently into the waking world. As Bucky laid sound asleep beside him, he dared himself to try something, he closed his eyes in terror that he would fail and thought hard, channelling any bits of magic into that one thing. He chuckled when he opened his eyes and saw a playing card, the King of Spades, clasped between two of his fingers. His glee must’ve been louder than he’d intended, however, enough to make Bucky stir from his sleep and crawl awake. Loki quickly threw the card under the bed and turned to face his lover.

“Hey”, Bucky mumbled, his eyes still half closed.

“Hi”, said Loki, taking the liberty to run his fingers through the tangled dark brown hair beside him, “What do you want to do today?”

“Can’t we just stay here?” It was a wonderful thought, the two of them in bed forever, but they had seriously overslept and really only had a little time before they needed to get ready to catch their train, so staying put was unfortunately not an option. Even then, there were so many breaks for kisses that by the time they'd packed all their things up they only made the train by the skin of their teeth.

Loki loathed to see Bucky go as he silently exited the Taxi at the end of his block, only able to give a promise to call later in of lou of a goodbye kiss. However, despite the brutal reminder of the reality of their situation it had still been the closest thing to a perfect weekend in Loki’s long life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- If anyone’s wondering which book Loki’s talking about on the beach, it’s Robinson Crusoe. Which unless you’re into racism and goat farming I’d give a miss tbh


	6. Alleyway of dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of my favourite chapters so I hope you all enjoy it!

Bucky wasn’t home five minutes before he had to rush back out, Sunday dinner with his family was a tradition he’d promised to keep up with when he’d moved out. He said hi to Steve, who was in much better shape than the last time he’d seen him - mercifully back to his annoyingly optimistic self - grabbed a thirty second shower and ran out the door.

For the first time ever he was grateful he only lived down the street from his parents, only breathing a sigh of relief when he barreled through the door and realised he was on time. To his surprise, however, he found his sister Rebecca stood in his mother’s usual spot by the stove.

“Oh, hey Bucky”, she called absentmindedly, eyebrows furrowed at the gas rings.

“Hey, where’s Mom?” Part of him was going to be really angry if he’d come home early just to find out dinner was canceled.

“In her room, said she had a headache, Dad’s in the bathroom getting ready”.

“Is she okay?” asked Bucky, who knew his mother well enough to know that missing the opportunity to over-feed her children was tantamount to heresy in her book.

“Hopefully not well enough to care about how bad my cooking is”, she joked.

“I’m sure it’s great”, he said, “I’m gonna go check in on her”.

Bucky walked into his parent's bedroom, only to find his mother staring vacantly at the tarnished mirror propped up on her vanity.

Concern growing, he walked towards her, “Hey ma, you okay? Bex said you weren’t feeling well”, the only time he’d seen her look like that was after his grandmother had died.

“You remember Mrs Gregory, don’t you James?” Oh shit, his mother never called him James. He did, in fact, remember the woman his mother was talking about, he’d been in the same class as her son, who was from Bucky’s recollection as insufferable as she was. The sort of woman people were only friends with because she knew everything about everyone else. Had she died? Surely his mother wouldn’t be that upset out it, and why tell his sister she was ill?

“Yeah, I remember her, is she okay?”

“We had lunch”, she said, “You know how she is, always got something to gossip about, she brought her grandson”.  _ Jesus, _ thought Bucky, this better not be some kind of existential crisis about her current lack of grandchildren. “They spent the day at Rockaway beach yesterday”. Bucky’s stomach dropped and he had to do everything to make sure his face didn’t join it, his mother had tears in her eyes, “Where were you this weekend James?”

“Home, where else would I be”, he forced a smile as the lie staggered off his tongue, he felt like he wanted to be sick, maybe it would cleanse him of the judgement in his mother’s eyes.

“Mrs. Gregory said she saw you, at Rockaway, on the east shore, with a man, she said you looked...close”. She couldn’t even say it, Bucky thought about the conversation he’d had on the beach, how he'd taken Loki’s hand in his, how he thought they’d been safe. He knew how the conversation would have gone, Mrs. Gregory would never have dared say anything so plainly, with such shame in her voice.

_ “I took little Timmy down to Rockaway yesterday”,  _ she would’ve started,  _ “The people you find down there though, of course, Timmy was, thank God, none the wiser, but the men, holding hands and all sorts” _ , then she would’ve paused, checking to see if Mrs. Barnes twitched at the mention of ‘those people’,  _ “You know for a moment, I could’ve sworn one of ‘em was your Bucky, you ought to tell him to get a new haircut or something, wouldn’t want him being mistaken for a degenerate”. _ She would’ve smiled smugly as the discomfort spread throughout his Mother’s body, knowing exactly what she’d done.

Had she defended her son? told her,  _ "You need to get better glasses” _ , or did she just smile awkwardly and move the conversation to something else, waiting for an opportunity to leave? How long had she sat staring at the mirror, wondering if what the women had told her was true?

Bucky laughed, “What are you talking about?” he hurled himself into survival mode, knowing he had to do anything to sew enough doubt in his Mom’s mind to get her to forget about what Mrs. Gregory had told her, “Mrs. G. hasn’t seen me in what, four years, I doubt she could pick me out a line up if I punched her in the face”, and he was tempted to as well.

“Just tell me it isn’t true Bucky”, she said, her fingernails digging into the already scratched wooden desk, “Please tell me it isn’t true”.

“Ma”, he said kneeling down next to her, “It isn’t true”. She didn’t look all that convinced. “Would I lie to you?” he knew the answer, but in that second he needed her to believe him, he loved his family, and any lie was worth it if it meant he got to keep them around.

His mother sighed, “Of course not”, she laughed quietly, wiping an escaped tear from her cheek, “Of course not, I’m sorry”.

“It’s fine Ma”, said Bucky, “You got nothin’ to apologize for”, he couldn’t even tell if she did.

“No, it’s not, I should’ve known better than to insult ya like that”. Bucky silently ground his teeth. “Actin’ like you were some kinda’ pansy. It ain't right”. He pulled his Mom in for a hug, hiding the single tear he couldn’t help but let roll down his face before he composed himself.

“Come on, Bex is going crazy thinking that you won’t like her cooking”.

“I probably won’t”, they both laughed the way people do when they’ve known each other a lifetime, only further reminding Bucky why his dishonesty was as necessary as it was uncomfortable.

The rest of the evening was almost completely normal, they had some nice food, his dad told a bad joke and complained about work, all in all, the same as every week. Except for every time Bucky looked down at his meal he remembered what had made his Mom so distraught she hadn’t been able to cook it. He wasn’t sure she’d actually believed him, his excuse was weak and he made a mental note to not let her anywhere near Steve in case she checked up on his alibi. He knew she probably wouldn’t though, she wanted to believe that Bucky was the boy she’d always thought so she did, better to buy into a crappy lie than deal with the consequences of the truth.

After he’d left his parent's house he couldn’t bring himself to go home, to sit in his bedroom and wail as silently as he could muster, so he went to Luca’s and resolved to drown his sorrows, which given that the booze was probably half water, was easier said than done. Eventually, he gave up and staggered slightly to a liquor store and found a quiet alley to wait for the sun to rise. The warm bourbon slid down his throat, the burn waning the more he drank, the sensation gradually being replaced by a numb sense of confusion. After a while the only emotion he could feel was anger, God knows at what, himself, his parents, the world. It wasn’t fair, he thought about the time he’d overheard Rebecca gushing to his Mom about a boy in her class, he’d tried not to be jealous, how stupid was it to be jealous of your little sister and some dumb crush that she’d likely be over in a week. He imagined telling his Mom about Loki, if he were a woman he’d be everything she’d ever wanted for him. Educated, well off, beautiful, his Dad would be pulling him to one side telling him to get a ring and a baby before he lost his chance. But that would never happen, not with Loki, not with anyone, he’d never get married or have children, he’d never get to tell his Ma how much he was in love and have her beam back at him the same way she did with Bex. 

He’d come to terms with his inclinations a long time ago, but the look on his mother’s face was haunting, how ashamed must she have been when she’d thought her eldest son was a Nancy, he questioned whether it had been vacancy in her eyes or seething disgust masked as indifference. He hated that he was bothered by it, part of him regretted not telling her the truth and just being done with it. He wondered what would’ve happened, would his Mother really have despised him, would she have told his Dad?

_ “Just tell me it isn’t true Bucky”, she said, her fingernails digging into the already scratched wooden desk, “Please tell me it isn’t true”. _

_ “What if it was?” He said, eyes hanging down to the floor, “What if it was true Ma, what would you do then?”  _ The possibilities played out in his head. _ “Would you hate me? Because I did, for the longest time, but I don’t wanna hate me Ma, and I don’t want you to either  _

The more he thought the more he drank, until the feeling went away entirely and he slipped painlessly into unconsciousness.

XXX

When he woke up the next morning he could hardly hear over a headache that was crushing the inside of his skull, a pain that only got worse after he opened his eyes to the blaring fluorescent light hanging above him. 

“Wh...Where am I”, he just about said, the dryness at the back of his throat making it difficult to speak.

“Shhhh”. In the state he was in, it took him a moment to recognise the voice next to him.

“Loki?” His voice was only just more than a whisper and was followed by an ungodly coughing fit.

“It’s okay, you’re here now, everything’s going to be fine”, said Loki, one hand running through his soiled hair.

“What happened?” The questions started flooding in as he regained awareness of his surroundings.

“You passed out, by the time they found you the only thing you had on you was this”, Bucky struggled out a laugh as Loki held up the napkin he’d given him the first time they’d met, “Good job you kept hold of it”.

“Am I in hospital?” Loki nodded. “What am I doing in a private room? I can’t afford a regu-”. He was cut off by a hand clutching around his.

“Don’t worry about that”. He’d paid for the room, he must’ve done, there’s no way they’d put a drunk with no wallet and no identification anywhere nicer than the bare minimum without some assurances that someone would pick up the tab.

“You shouldn’t have done that, I’m not a charity case”, he tried to yell, but his throat was too sore.

“I know”, said Loki, “But I wanted you somewhere I could still do this”, he locked their fingers together, lifting Bucky’s practically lifeless hand to his lips for the briefest of moments before a nurse walked in and they jerked apart. She checked him over and told him the doctor would be coming round in a little while, making him promise not to get himself into such a state ever again.

“Feel like telling me what happened?” Loki asked, once the nurse was gone. Bucky sighed and recounted the entire sorry story to him, everything his Mom had said, everything she’d not, that the last thing he could remember was sitting down in an abandoned alley with a bottle of bourbon and hoping nobody found him.

“You should’ve called”, insisted Loki, head in hand, he clearly hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“I’m sorry”, it was I weak excuse but it was all he could manage, “I just wanted to be alone”.

“Believe me, I understand the impulse”.

“It ever end well for you?”

“Not once”. Jesus Christ, what had he done to himself? He’d passed out, been robbed, and woken up in hospital, which with all things considered wasn’t even close to the worst case consequence of his actions. He called Connie from the hospital pay phone, who, on arrival, was predictably less sympathetic than Loki had been, greeting him with a small whack to the head and an earful. He thought she might suffocate Loki with how hard she was hugging him.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are Bucky Barnes”, she yelled, “You could’ve been killed! You’re lucky pretty boy over here wasn’t being called to identify a corpse”. A comment that earned a smirk from Loki and an eye roll from Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that, and don’t think I’m leaving here without some sort of explanation”.

“Why don’t I give you two a minute to talk”, said Loki, “I’ll go see if I can track down something to eat”. Bucky nodded as Loki left and, for the second time that day, explained how he’d ended up unconscious in the gutter of a Brooklyn back alley.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry Bucky”, she said.

“It’s not your fault, and hey at least you seem to like Loki now”.

“I may have forgiven you for ditching me the other night”, Connie smiled, “But only if you promise to tell me everything about Rockaway”.

By the time Loki got back, Doctor in tow, Bucky had let loose every aspect of their mini-getaway to an enthralled Connie. After a final look over the Doctor agreed to discharge him on the condition he promised to stay away from the drink for a while and was met with stern assurances from Bucky that he’d learnt his lesson, citing a temporary lapse in judgement for his reckless behaviour. 

Later, Loki rode back in the taxi with him and made him promise to actually call this time if he needed anything. As soon as the car pulled away Bucky caught Steve practically sprinting down the stairs to meet him.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked, arms flung open and eyes bursting wide, “I was damn near about to call the cops? I went to find you but your Dad said ya left last night?”

Bucky sighed, his head still hurt like a bitch and his entire body was aching from the night out cold on the hard street, “Can we not, right now Stevie?” He realised he’d been gone over twenty-four hours and his friend had every right to be worried but he didn’t think he could handle any more lies for a little while at least. He pushed passed Steve to get to the apartment but he clearly wasn’t done being interrogated.

“What happened Buck?” It didn’t feel like so much a question as it did a demand, he knew he had to say something.

“Me and Mom had a fight okay, I decided to drown my sorrows, wound up passed out in an alley, can we just leave it that okay”.

“A fight? Since when do you fight with your parents?”

“Since!” Since I’m gay. Since my Mom probably found out about it. Since I don’t know how to deal with it. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be fine, I overreacted”

“You sure?”

“Yeah”, Bucky lied, “Sorry for making you worry”.

“As long as you’re okay?”

“I’m fine”. He was always fine.


	7. Ignorance is Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of chapters were pretty short, so I decided to double them up again!

 

The next couple of weeks were spent in a willfully ignorant bliss, some of the calmest of Loki’s life, there was no murder or intergalactic family drama or secret siblings that he suddenly had to kill for the greater good. It was not surprisingly refreshing after the mess of Ragnarok. He spent as much of his time with Bucky as possible, both of them happy to build a neat little bubble the rest of the world couldn’t get to, but bubbles are fragile and this one came with a built-in countdown. Luca had called a few days earlier, his papers were ready, which meant his time in New York was quickly coming to a close. The woman at the front desk had been most helpful in organising a ticket for a cruise liner departing to Quebec on the 27th, his initial plan was to try and get to London but with ships being shot down across the Atlantic it wasn’t just impossible but dangerous. So Canada would have to be far enough for him to plan his next move. What that was he hadn’t quite figured out yet, he knew he needed to get close enough to the war to find the good Captain but that was about it, and it was a big goddamn war. 

They decided to spend their last night at Luca’s, where it had all started for them, Bucky played a song that Loki didn’t recognise but loved all the same and everything seemed right with their little pocket of the universe. Once he’d finished his set they danced a while, laughing comfortably in the crowd of their own people, no chance of another Mrs Gregory spotting them and causing problems. After closing they snook up to Loki’s hotel room one final time, well aware it might be the last time they ever woke up in each other's arms.

“Is it selfish that I don’t want you to go?” asked Bucky as he curled into Loki’s side, arms as reluctant to let go as the rest of him was.

“Not at all”, said Loki, “I wish I could stay”. He’d thought about it, ignoring Thanos and just staying in New York, holding onto that happiness for as long as he could, but the temptation passed as quickly as it appeared. For the first time in his life, Loki was determined to not just take the easy way out, if everything stayed on its current track there soon wouldn’t be much of New York left, or of anywhere. So yes, the easy thing to do would be to ignore his problems and stay in the bubble, but he thought about Odin, and how his solution had more often than not had been to do exactly that, which was more than enough to prove its eventual ineffectiveness. If there was one thing Loki didn’t want (even more than he wanted Bucky) it was to wind up like his father, bitter, alone and questioning every decision he’d ever made, Loki had enough regrets for a dozen lifetimes already.

Bucky traced a small kiss on Loki’s chest, “I’ll miss you”, he said.

“I can always write”. It was a loathsome compromise that could never replace their current situation, “Or I could come back”.

“What?” asked Bucky, his tired eyes perking up at the suggestion.

“When the war’s over when everything's done, what if I came back?” After he’d dealt with the Tesseract Loki had sort of assumed he’d find a way to get back to his own time, but why? Why not stay where he was, maybe that was his reward for finally doing the right thing? It was a nice thought. Perhaps one he didn’t deserve to have after everything that he’d done, but nice all the same.

“You mean it?”

“Let's just say I have a few things that need taking care of, but once they are there’s nothing keeping me anywhere”. Of course, there was Thor if he was even still alive, but escaping some tragic accident there was nothing to suggest he wouldn’t live long enough to see him again.

“What would we do?”

“What would you want to do?”

“You’ll think it’s dumb”, said Bucky, his mouth pursed and nose crinkled.

“Don't be ridiculous, you’re many things, dumb isn’t one of them”.

“Okay, well I always wanted my own business, nothing big, just a little place, no one to tell me what to do or say. Something that was just mine, I don’t even know what I’d wanna put there but”.

Loki smiled, “If you ask me that sounds pretty great”. They didn’t say much else the rest of the night, content with just enjoying each other's silent company as they fell asleep long after the sun had set on New York. Everything changed once the sun rose, Loki knew that, the world he’d found himself in was at war, one with far greater implications than anyone could have ever predicted. This is where it all began, messing with time was dangerous there was no doubt about that, but the alternative was to sit back and watch the next eighty years of destruction play out as it had always been, and Loki was many things, a liar, thief, narcissistic killer, emotionally unstable to put it mildly, but he’d never been accused of giving up, not at his worst or his best. 

He looked at the beautiful man asleep beside him, he had no idea what was coming, probably wouldn’t need to. The thought of all those plans Bucky had dreamed of for however long circled his head, in a few months America would be at war, just like everyone else, and Bucky was young, fit, definitely able, would he even survive to try and bring those imaginings to life? Loki shuddered to think about it, not when he couldn’t be sure he himself would live, and there was no way for him to find out at that point so he decided to ignore his darker thoughts and try and get some last moments of peaceful sleep before he plunged himself into two of the biggest wars in history.


	8. Goodbye for now forever

Really he should have gone home, Steve was still worried about him after the fiasco with his mother, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Loki any sooner than he had to. It was strange, so much had happened since they’d met and yet hardly any time had past at all. Was that a sign that a quick fling was all it was meant to be? Or did it mean the exact opposite? Bucky sincerely hoped it was the latter.

The ride to the harbour was a silent and solemn one, neither one of them excited for the outcome of the day. Bucky spent the entire journey just staring at Loki, trying to memorise the details his face, the way his nose slanted almost parallel to his jawline, and his hair was starting to curl just slightly at the ends without any product to slick it back. How could anyone want to do anything other than spend time with him.

It was packed when they got there, people rushing around in every direction, loud calls of lost family members and frustrated workers over the cry of ships horns echoed through the ever moving crowds. The whole place was like a little world of it’s own, the New York skyline half obscured by looming ships and wide stretches of wave, a cascading rotation of arrivals and departures, the river half filled and turned salty with the tears of joy and misery shed by the harbours visitors. It was one of those places that seemed like everything that happened there could only exist within its boundaries. Bucky tried to dragout every moment for as long as possible, his feet stopping to look at the tattered flyers stapled to switched off street lights, but a second is a second after all and before long it was time to say goodbye.

“I guess this is it”, said Loki, “I don’t even know what to say”.

Bucky shuffled back and forth a little, hands clinging to the inside of his pockets, “I think there’s a lot a that going around”.

Loki abandoned all care and lunged forward into a tight embrace, “I really wish I could kiss you right now”, he whispered, brushing his lips as close to Bucky’s ears as he dared.

“Me too”. A hug was explainable, they could be old friends, brothers, no one would look twice at that, a kiss on the other hand definitely would put a spanner in Loki’s travel plans, which selfishly made it seem all the more worth it.

“I’ll write. As soon as I’m set up”. The horn sounded and they knew that the clock had run out.

“I’ll hold you to that”, it was the last thing he said as he watched Loki board the ship that would take him thousands of miles away most likely forever. Connie had been right, there was no way it ended without anyone getting hurt, is that what it felt like then, heartbreak. He’d always assumed he’d never have to go through it, his previous relationships had all been like stray fireworks, burning and beautiful, but too artificial to elicit any kind of emotional attachment before they fizzled out. Fireworks seemed unimpressive once you’d seen a real shooting star, better to wait for it to come around again than disappoint yourself with the next best thing.

On his way back home he saw a young couple saying goodbye on the subway platform, they would probably be seeing each other in a few days at most, but you’d think there was an ocean about to separate them, not the east river. Dragging their farewell out so long with giggles and soft kiss, so much that the man missed the train twice. They looked happy, a lifetime to fall in love with each other, normally he would have thought it sweet, but that day he found himself full of bitter jealousy. He’d always known he could never have what those strangers had, something he’d thought he’d made peace with, but for the first time he’d tasted the ghost of it, of love and commitment, and now he had to go on with the rest of his life with zero control over whether or not he got a happy ending. There was a split second at that dock where he’d thought about going with him, buying a ticket for that boat or the one that came after it. If he was normal maybe he could’ve done and still had everything waiting for him, but going with Loki would have been the point of no return, there’d be no coming back, not when an appropriate answer to explain his actions was next to impossible. As much as he hated it, he wasn’t ready to give up who he’d always been.

It was impossible to count how many times he’d cried over the next couple of days, everything from small sniffles he pushed back down to angry sobs at how he’d only put himself up to get hurt, with everything in between. Steve in all his wisdom knew something was wrong, he didn’t push for an explanation which was a godsend, and he didn’t even complain when Bucky left his towel on the bathroom floor like he always did. The slack was nice if unexpected, Bucky wondered if he’d be that considerate if the shoe was on the other foot, Steve distraught and refusing to tell him why? He liked to think so, but Steve was special, unquestioningly kind even when he didn’t have to be, to pretend that anyone could be like him was at least a little absurd. With any luck Steve would assume that whatever he was upset about was the same thing he’d fought with his Mom about, which was true in a roundabout sort of way. Which Bucky hated more somehow, he couldn't help but wonder how much of his life was built on half truth after half truth, and how long, like any building made with pieces that don’t fit, it could last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit early but Happy Halloween everyone!


	9. Finding Square One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, mainly because it took loads of research and I couldn't quite find what I was looking for to get Loki's backstory accurate, but it's necessary for the plot so a little bit of creative licence was required...Hope you enjoy it anyway!

The crossing was exceedingly tedious, more so than Loki had imagined, the atmosphere was glum, people shook with every tilt of the boat, terrified that it was the Germans coming to get them. Immigration was a bit of a tense moment, Loki only hoped that Luca’s handy work was up to scratch and that his own inexperience didn’t give anything away. He made it through without so much as a second glance, in the end, he grabbed a tourism leaflet (as well as about half a dozen to do with the war effort) from inside the ferry terminal and picked a nearby hotel and went outside to find a taxi. Something about the air felt different in Quebec than it had in New York, he couldn’t tell if it was its comparatively smaller stature or the fact that the port was swarming with military personnel for a war that was much easier to ignore a few hours down the coastline.

Once he’d checked into his room he sat down with his stack of pamphlets and a phone book, hoping a plan would start to form. The easiest thing to do would be to enlist, there was a recruitment centre a few blocks away and from what he’d gathered they weren’t exactly turning people away. The problem with that idea, however, was that for starters he had about zero interest in any kind of combat role, he hadn’t been lying when he’d told Bucky that Thor was the fighter. He was a competent warrior, more than by Earth standards, he was stronger faster and smarter than your average human, but large-scale military campaigns were definitely not an area he excelled in and he was even less adept at following orders. Secondly, SHIELD had been spies, whose predecessors had been spies, simply being in the war was going to get him nowhere closer to the Tesseract than he already was, whatever he did he needed to be brilliant at. He wished he knew where Odin had hidden the damn thing, but before Thanos had told him of its location he didn’t even know it was on Earth so trying to narrow it down any further was futile. In hindsight, he’d wished he’d paid more attention to SHIELD’s files during the battle of New York, but with the whole world domination thing going on he’d had a little too much on his mind to dig any deeper than he’d needed to. All he did know was that the Nazi’s dug it up and through a complicated course of events it wound up in SHIELD’s hands as they were digging through the ice for a presumed dead Captain Steve Rogers. Everything else he was making up as he went along.

Flying seemed like a good option, it was a realistic skill that wouldn’t require any explanation and the date on his passport was just too old for a military role in the air force so with any luck he’d be able to avoid any direct action. Just because he was Asgardian didn’t mean he wanted to be shot out of the sky. The only spanner in the works was his lack of an official pilots license, obviously, he’d flown vessels far more complicated than those in use at the time so it wasn’t as if he was expecting to struggle with the technicalities. If he could get ahold of someone else's, then he could conceivably make a copy of it fairly easily now that his magic was at least partially back under his control.

Early the next morning he made the trip down to a local flying school, sneaking around until he found what looked like an executive office that had a wide selection of pilots licenses, issued everywhere from The U.S to Australia. Loki made a mental note of each of them before returning to his hotel room to make up some copies, he decided to go with nothing too crazy, he wanted to get hired not stand out, so he forged one for a light aircraft deciding he could always fabricate something else later.

Once he was happy with his work he walked down to the recruiting office, not sure where else to go, and ended up speaking to a gruff but seemingly well-meaning Officer called Henderson. Loki explained his ‘situation’ which was that he’d been working in America when the war had broken out but had decided it was time to serve his country, even throwing in a detail about how he’d stayed for a girl but she’d wound up married to someone else. It was all very convincing and was sure to paint Loki in the best possible light imaginable, specifically mentioning that as well as being a stand-up kind of guy he was a qualified (as of that morning) pilot.

“Well, you’re too old for the RAF”. Which was an understatement that Loki had to try hard not to laugh at. “But I know a guy who's looking to recruit civilian pilots, that is if you don’t mind a trip across the Atlantic”. Loki assured him that he didn’t and that he was happy to do any work Henderson thought he’d be suited too and arrangements were made for him to catch a ride over the ocean on a cargo plane and join something called ATA. Which meant very little to Loki but he was promised it was valuable war work for someone with his skill set. It was insane how quickly it was all happening, after a couple of phone calls Loki found out that in a few days he’d be reporting for duty at an airbase in Oxfordshire.

Nothing was easy though, the journey over was rough as hell and the guy flying seemed terrified that they were going to crash one way or another, and when he arrived in England the transition to Human aircrafts wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped and he had to take more than a minute to get used to it. He adjusted quickly, however, and by mid-October, he was cleared to fly. Another thing he’d been expecting to be much easier, and far less deadly. His job was essentially to transport planes or servicemen from one place to another, which didn’t stop the Nazi’s trying to shoot at him. After he was settled at an airbase a little ways outside of London he decided it was more than time to keep his promise and wrote to Bucky, the only reason he’d put it off so long was because he’d had no idea how to explain what he was doing, but he, at last, felt like he had enough to talk about and still leave out some of the stranger details in his life.

_Dear Bucky,_ _October 26th 1941_

_Hello, I hope all is well, sorry it took me so long to write but everything was a little hectic after I left New York. How is New York by the way? The more I think about it the more I start to miss it’s charms, and you._

_I’m in England now, another reason this letter might arrive a bit later than I’d like, I’ve ended up transporting aircrafts of all things, civilian role, but it suits me fine and there are worse ways to spend a war. There’s never a dull moment and the men and women on the base are all great so I’m in good company at least._

_A few of us are being sent to France tomorrow but hopefully I’ll be back by the time you get this._

_Stay Safe, Loki._

XXX

By the time he did get back from France he’d more than secured his upkeep of the ATA “fly anything anywhere” motto, the repertoire of planes he could fly rapidly increasing, so with that and the reply letter from Bucky waiting for him when he got back to the base a few days later was enough to make him beam from ear to ear.

_Loki,_

_Don’t worry about it, and you’re telling me to stay safe? I’m not the one in a war zone, I hope everything’s okay over there. New York’s about the same, Steve got beaten up again so nothing’s changed there. He’s fine, I think he’s somehow built to take a beating, probably happened when they surgically removed his survival instinct. I think he’d actually be happy if we were at war with you, God help anyone that takes him mind._

_Connie’s fussing over me as well so I’m glad to hear from you, I think she was about to march into Nazi Germany just so she could yell at you for leaving._

_So pilot, you never mentioned you could fly? It isn’t too dangerous is it? Sorry about all the questions, just trying to make sure you keep good on your word to come back once this is all over._

“Serrure!” his C.O called into the barracks, “Put down that damn letter, there’s someone here I need you to meet”. Loki’s face soured, who could possibly be here to see him, but he followed obediently nonetheless, all the way to his commander’s office. The man waiting for him, who his boss introduced as Edwards, was older, possessing a thinning hairline, tweed suit and several deep wrinkles that were gouged into his face. He also apparently had no qualms with sitting behind another man’s desk.

“I’ll leave you two to it then”, said his C.O as he made his exit. Loki sat down timidly in the seat on the other side of the desk waiting for the silence to break.

“I’ve been told you’re quite the pilot Second Officer”. Loki still found it strange to be referred to by rank, it reminded him of when he was a child and people would just yell ‘prince’ and expect him to respond like he didn’t have a name.

“I like to think so”, he replied.

“They also say you’re batshit crazy enough to fly anywhere”.

“Well I wouldn’t use those exact words”

“I’m afraid there isn’t time to be polite Mr Serrure”, said Edwards, pulling a thin file from his briefcase, “I represent a branch of the government called the Special Operations Executive”.

“So you’re a spy”. Now Loki’s interest was peaked, this could have been the in he was waiting for.

“I wouldn’t use those exact words”, he said parroting Loki’s earlier turn of phrase but with a smarmy grin pasted on top, “But yes, I do have links to intelligence. To cut a long story short, two of our operatives, an officer and a civilian consultant, have been trapped behind enemy lines and are currently held up in a safe house almost forty miles from the Soviet front”.

“Apologies sir but what does this have to do with me?” asked Loki.

“We’ve arranged an extraction point, but we need someone to fly in, get them out and into allied territory, even if it is Uncle Joe’s”.

“Why me?” It was a fair question, there had to be any number of qualified pilots and Loki didn’t feel like a suicide mission.

“Honestly, we had someone else in mind until your name came up, and you might actually have a shot at getting everyone out alive. Play your cards right, we might even be able to get you a permanent position”. This guy was good, adding a little carrot to sweeten the pot, he’d be mad to turn down the offer now, for more reasons than Edwards could know.

“Well then, I suppose I’m in”.

“One more thing, the civilian consultant's valuable, it’s imperative you get him home, at any cost, if it comes between him and the agent, don’t hesitate”. To leave him behind, thought Loki.

XXX

He didn’t have time to write a return letter for Bucky before he was whisked away, not by Edwards, but by some nameless agent intent on remaining silent the entire trip. The air base he was reporting to was on the edge of the Lithuanian border, barely even under allied control, and the plane he’d been given was a Russian made seaplane, so no wonder they’d wanted someone who was ATA to fly, half his job was getting into crafts he’d never seen before and landing them safely. The extraction point was just fifty miles away, but as soon as he entered enemy airspace alarm bells would start ringing, so he had to be quick if he wanted to avoid being captured and winding up some experiment in a Nazi science lab.

There were a few pot shots on his way in, but he arrived mainly without incident, the only thing he’d been told about his mission was that the agent would tell him the safe word ‘antelope’, why the hell that had been chosen was baffling but at least it was memorable. He’d landed as close to the shore as he could, which wasn’t hard since the stretch of river he’d been instructed to land on was bordering on too thin and he sure as hell hoped there was no debris floating out in front of him in the darkness. Everything was going fine, well within the extraction window, that was until he heard gunfire coming from the adjoining forest.

“Shit”, he mumbled scrambling to get a look at what was going on through the sites on his rifle. To say what he saw surprised him wasn’t enough, two men running for a break in the tree line was expected, it was who he saw that surprised him, “Stark?” Loki climbed out of the cockpit and started firing at the soldiers just running onto the beach.

“Antelope?” screamed the uncanny man as he approached the aircraft, who close up obviously wasn’t the same person he’d thrown out of a skyscraper.

“Civilian?” asked Loki, continuing to fire on the soldiers.

“Huh-huh”.

“Get in!”. He climbed up into the plane, which was barely big enough for the three expected passengers. Loki looked out at the agent who’d trailed behind as a bullet went through his shoulder and he dropped to the ground, he knew his mission, get the civilian out at any cost and he thought he’d been prepared to do it, hardly be the worst thing he’d have ever done. “No chance you can fly this thing?”

“Are you joking, I’m the best civilian pilot in the world, besides I coulda built this thing in high school”. Definitely a Stark then.

He scribbled down the landing coordinates on the map by the controls, “If I don’t make it back, you make sure you get yourself here in the next hour”. Stark gave a surprised look before nodding and mumbling something under his breath about missing Peggy. Loki dashed onto the beach and scooped the injured soldier under his arm and dragged him back to the river, which without his cover fire was met with significantly more bullets. How much was Stark worth to these people? A man who took no time in starting the engine the second they were inside the cockpit.

“You’re crazy”, said Stark as soon they were airborne.

“So I’ve been told”. He shooed Stark from the pilot’s seat and told him to go tend to the injured agent that had presumably kept him alive behind enemy lines.

“I’m Howard Stark by the way”.

“Serrure”, said Loki, who was more interested in any readings that might indicate they’d been hit by the onslaught of bullets during his rescue attempt. The journey back was met with significantly more resistance than the outward one had, and Loki was relieved when they landed all in relatively one piece, he wasn’t ready to find out how his body would react to a plane crash.

XXX

Their return was less than ceremonious, with the Agent, who Stark only referred to as Jones, being whisked away by a medical team as soon as they were on solid ground. With the other two being put up in bunks for the night whilst they waited for further orders. It was the early hours of the morning when Loki was awoken by the garishly yellow light on the other side of the room.

“Mr Stark”, said a gruff voice with an American accent, “You okay”.

“For the most part”. Loki decided it was in his best interest to listen in from the top bunk and try not to draw attention to himself. “But we were wrong. It wasn’t plans Schmidt was trying to find it was these”, Stark handed over a stack of photographs of what looked liked pages of a manuscript, and definitely not one you could buy in any shop. The pages were torn and faded, even in the black and white copies, and it took Loki an alarmingly long time to figure out what they were of.

“The Bifrost”, he only realised he’d said it out loud when the two men below turned to look at him.

“You might have mentioned you had company Stark”, The officer looked up at him with slanted eyes, “Colonel Phillips, United States Army. You know what these are”. Loki froze, he knew exactly what the pages were about, but he had to tread carefully if he wanted to conceal how he knew about them.

He slid down onto ground level, “May I?” he asked holding out his hand for the photos that the Colonel swiftly handed off to him, “It’s an ancient Norse Myth, Odin, the King of the Gods, hid his treasures on earth before abandoning the realm. They believed the Bifrost, this”, he said, pointing to the crude picture, “was the bridge connecting all the nine realms together”.

“You think Schmidt could actually believe this shit?” asked Phillips, looking straight past Loki and speaking only to Stark.

“Eirskin said he was crazy”.

Phillips sighed and turned to Loki, “These pages don’t happen to say where this magic treasure is do they”.

He flipped through the pages, scanning all the ancient texts for any mention of a location, “Afraid not”. No direct mentions of the tesseract either.

“What’s your name?” asked Phillips.

“Second Officer Loren Serrure”.

“And you know about all this Ancient Norse shit”.

“You could say I have an extensive familiarity with it”, he said, words edging carefully from his tongue.

“Well then Second Officer, how would you like a job?”

XXX

_Dear Bucky,_

_I’ve been given new orders so I don’t know when I’ll be able to write next, hope everything is okay with you all the same, everything’s a little up in the air over here and I’m not sure where I’ll be sent next, but I promise to write as soon as I can._

_Loki._

He sent the brief letter once he was back in London with Colonel Phillips, Stark Senior having been whisked back to the states, with no time to breathe before being taken to one of the SSR’s many bases, which all seemed slightly suspicious given the USA wasn’t actually in the war yet, and their operation had clearly been up and running for some time. He spent the next few weeks traipsing around Europe translating scrap of evidence after scrap of evidence, each time it leading nowhere closer to Schmidt or the Tesseract.

It was the beginning of December when he was finally called into Phillips office.

“Serrure!” He said, surprisingly cheery for a man a war-torn ocean away from home a few weeks before the most important holiday of the year, “I’ve someone I’d like you to meet”. As if on cue the door swung open and a young woman, maybe only early twenties, with neatly curled hair and bold red lipstick walked in. She was a far cry from the state of the men he usually worked with, “Officer, this is Agent Peggy Carter, she’s one of our best ”. Now there’s a name he’d spent more than enough time poking through SHIELD’s files to recognise.

“Hello”, she said, “I hear Howard Starks been singing your praises, not a small feat given his...Character”. Oh, Loki thought he was going to like this.


	10. Shipping Out

Christmas was tense amongst the Barnes’ family that year, the threat of one of their ranks being called up for battle looming over them. Bucky had been training Steve for enlistment, not that he really thought it’d make any difference, he was ineligible on his asthma alone. Although technically he was just as unqualified based on who he shared a bed with, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about cashing in on that particular tidbit to get out of going. It was always a fleeting thought though, he couldn’t exactly tell his family and there was no other reason he’d be turned away. In the end all the recruiter had asked him was if he liked girls, and he’d responded with a dutiful, “Yeah, of course”. The army might have thought him abhorrent on principle, but they needed too much manpower to practically put up much of a fuss. It didn’t stop the lie burning the back of his throat in the way it always did. It was a resigned pain, like the kind you get from walking up the same hill every day, always complaining about how there must be a better way to get to the top, knowing full well that you’ll do it all again tomorrow.

Bucky was young, fit and healthy, the army snapping him up was the only outcome he’d ever expected. Similarly, them giving Steve a well-deserved 4F was as equally expected, and as much as he hated seeing Steve disappointed by that fact, he hadn’t exactly been in love with the idea of him going to war, however remote a possibility it had been. It didn’t help that he kept trying to enlist illegally, it was crazy, millions of men terrified and Steve was the one man who’d have taken any of their places in a heartbeat. It wasn’t just the fighting either, Bucky was of the opinion that Steve was too sweet-natured for his own good sometimes, but it was what made him the Steve Rogers that he knew and loved, and war would break him eventually, and Bucky had no interest in living in that world. 

Before he reported to training he wrote Loki one last letter, it was a shot in a dark he’d even get it, but writing it was as much about comforting himself as it was giving Loki a heads up.

_ Dear Loki,  _

_ I guess the war made it here after all. I’m not sure if you’ll even get this, things being how they are, but I figured I should at least give it a shot. I enlisted, I’m not even sure why if I’m totally honest but it’s done now, and it’s the right thing to do I suppose. Like Steve says, I got no right to do any less than I’m able too. If I could’ve I would’ve waited to hear more from you before writing but I start basic training in the morning and once I’m there people are saying they’ll start checking my letters which probably won’t end well for either of us. Is it bad I don’t want to say goodbye? I don’t have much else left to write but I don’t want this letter to end. It’s a big war though, maybe I’ll bump into you one day. This thing goes on long enough it might inevitable. Jesus, even in a letter I can’t seem to stop droning on in front of you, guess that means it’s time for that goodbye? _

_ Love Bucky. _

He slotted a small photo strip of himself that he’d taken the week before in the envelope, just in case.

When it came down to it saying goodbye to Steve was the hardest part, they’d been at each other's sides for as long as Bucky could remember, the weirdest part about all of it would be not seeing him every day. He felt a bit bad about their last night together being commandeered as a ‘double date’. In reality, Connie was trying to get one of the girls in her boarding house - who she insisted she didn’t have a crush on but definitely did - off her back about dating, so Bucky had promised to take them out before he was deployed and had ended up putting it off till the last minute. But the Stark Expo was exciting and bright and had flying cars and a better future than the one he’d been promised by the world, it was everything he’d want from his final night in New York. He thought one last time about telling Steve of his natural inclinations, just in case he never saw him again, at least then someone in his family would have known whilst they cried over his grave. Of course, the night got sidetracked by Steve trying to enlist, again, and he never got around to it. Which he thought was probably for the best in the end. 

   XXX

When he got to the army he quickly realised he wasn’t the only guy like him who’d ignored the rules and if it weren't for his lingering feelings for Loki he probably would’ve been more than up for a night of passion in their arms, anything to dull the realities of war. Not to mention he couldn’t see the point in getting attached to someone who might well be dead a few weeks later. Then, on top of all that, the punishment was enough of a deterrent for Bucky to keep it in his pants as long as he could last. Another guy in his unit had been caught out with a boy from the village near where they were stationed. He’d come back to base, awaiting his blue discharge papers before he was shipped back to the states. Everyone knew, the brass marched him through the mess hall so all the men could jeer and laugh, shout “Faggot”, at the tops of their lungs, Bucky tried his best to look like he was joining in, faking a snicker when the men around him did, silently praying that his face didn’t betray him. He thought about what his family would say if he came home with a blue ticket, it’s not like there were many ways he could spin it, everyone knew what they meant, an easy way to get rid of undesirables without the fuss of a Court Martial. Then who knows what would have happened to him, he’d struggle to find work let alone a place to live with them stapled to his resume for the rest of his life.

The mess hall was the first thing he had nightmares about, there was a particularly nasty one where his discharge papers were nailed to his back that popped up every now and again, amongst everything else he had to deal with. Something about that memory had managed to burn past gunshots and the threat of death and made him even more terrified about what actual warfare would do to his mind. It made him wonder if the army was right, maybe his kind were just unfit for military service, and maybe everyone else was a fine patriot ready to do battle for the greater good of the world.


	11. And so it begins

The SSR was a hectic mess of an organisation, especially after the US officially entered the war and Project Rebirth was given the final go ahead. Within a year the entire base of operations was moved to the States and himself and Carter followed a couple of days after the Stark Expo had closed and all the candidates had been selected, including one Steve Rogers. All Loki had to do now was wait, stay close and before he knew it the Tesseract would be within his reach.

As luck would have it Bucky’s final letter had arrived at just the right moment, he’d been packing to leave London for what he’d been told would be the last time when it landed in his mailbox. He ended up leaving the letters behind but thought the picture too precious to try and memorize. Loki took one last look in the mirror before he took off, the bruising on his neck had decided to scar, unsurprisingly when he recalled the weight of the Mad Titan’s fist. What was really infuriating was that despite the bulk of all his other magic being back to its pre-Thanos capacity, he couldn’t seem to hide them, every time he tried it just glitched out until it flickered back to its true state. In fact, trying to transform into anything that wasn’t strictly some version of himself was just as futile. It appeared that Thanos’ mark was as much a part of him as anything, the only problem was that for the first time in his life he couldn’t hide it behind illusions and tricks.

Was it strange he was sort of excited to meet the elusive Captain, their exchange during New York was brief and not exactly pleasant, and soon he’d be meeting all five foot four of him? He’d read his file cover to cover a dozen times, the picture looked like he’d remembered, despite his skinny stature, but nothing could have prepared him for just how dramatic the transformation would be.

Camp David was about as he’d expected it, lots of old men yelling for everything from, “Pass the Goddamn Sauce!” at the dinner table to “Get your ass off the floor!” on the training ground. It reminded him terribly of the way the army on Asgard had behaved, soldiers were still soldiers after all, regardless of what planet they were from.

Seeing all the recruits lined up in front of Agent Carter awaiting orders it wasn’t difficult to spot which one should have been Rogers, standing a good foot below everyone else. But he was a ways off with Colonel Phillips whilst Carter was giving her speech, only hearing glimpses of it until Hodge was face down in the dirt. So on first sight, he had to squint to be sure that it really was the man he’d been waiting for.

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” Said Phillips, before turning his attention to the pitiful sight beneath him, “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention till somebody comes tells you what to do”.

“Yes, sir!” Chanted Hodge as he scrambled back up to his feet.

The Colonel went on, but Loki had little interest in what he was saying, he already knew that the only man in the line up that would become a super-soldier was the scrawny child-like blond one in sagging clothes and a helmet the rocked from side to side on his head.

The kid put up a good fight Loki’d give him that, especially knowing that at that point in history he could probably sit on Rogers the wrong way and break him in two. However it had been his little trick with the flag that had earnt him Loki’s respect, it was almost devious, perhaps they had a little more in common than he’d first thought.

“Squad, halt! That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Serrure. Move, move!” The Colonel had barked with a sense of arrogant certainty as the soldiers fought to try and shuffle their way up the pole, “If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble! Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there! Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years! Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go!” Rogers was the only one who hung back, “Get back into formation! Rogers! I said fall in!” Unfortunately for Phillips, he was no longer the one with unwavering confidence, he watched with confused horror as that tiny little nothing of a soldier pulled the pin and simply picked the flag from the dirt and hopped into the back of the truck.

It wasn’t long after that he was finally selected to be the first candidate to go through Project Rebirth and Loki found himself back in New York City, although not for the reason he wished. Loki was already in the antique store come science lab listening to Howard rattle on about whatever the hell it was he was doing when Carter showed up with Steve. He’d only met Erskine a couple of times to interview him about his knowledge of Schmidt, and although he found him amiable enough for a man who’d lost everything he knew Project Rebirth was about to collapse, which likely meant he had numbered days and therefore wasn’t top of Loki’s list of people to make friends with.

Soon, he realised he’d been right too. The experiment was a success, Rogers just about got through alive, and came out the other side looking alarmingly impressive. Loki seriously hoped no one noticed him staring at the results in a way that definitely wasn’t scientific curiosity. If the Captain had shown up in Stuttgart looking like that the fight would’ve been a lot shorter. The only thing that broke his inappropriate workplace daze was the ringing of an explosion in his ears. He went down like a rock, only coming too after it was all over and Steve was somewhere in the streets of Brooklyn.

The whole situation turned into a nightmare, Project Rebirth was scrapped and Rogers was sent off to be a dancing monkey for the US Government whilst the rest of the SSR was shipped back to the front lines, the entire experiment labelled a catastrophic failure. Captain America had been born, but as a showgirl, not earth’s first Avenger.

One awkward flight back to Europe and it was as if the Super Soldier Serum had never existed. The cabin consisted of only himself, Carter and Stark, two empty seats where Erskine and Rogers should’ve been.

“Did he have any family left?” asked Loki, just so the silence of death wasn’t the only thing between them.

“Phillips said he’d see if he could find anyone, but no immediate family no”, said Carter. That was the last time anyone spoke until they landed and were flooded with a laundry list of assignments to keep themselves busy whilst command figured out what they were going to do with them.

Loki almost cried that night, not out of grief, he’d rather run out of tears for that, but out of hopelessness. He thought he was done waiting, trudging through a war he knew the outcome of and trying to squeeze in his own agenda, but he was back to playing the waiting game he’d been trying to win for over a year. He climbed into bed and pulled out the picture of Bucky he had stashed away, slid between the front pages of a book he’d glued together on two sides for safe keeping. It brought him some comfort, but as he stared at the stagnant printed face he could feel the warm vowels of Bucky’s Brooklyn drawl fade from him. Closing his eyes, as to prevent any further threat of tears, he thought about all the letters, sitting alone in a locker in London, he tried tracing out the words ever so slightly across the front cover of his notebook, hoping some of them would stick inside. 

_I hope everything’s okay over there_

_Love, Bucky._

_it’s the right thing to do I suppose._

_Is it bad I don’t want to say goodbye?_

_Connie’s fussing over me_

_Steve got beaten up again_

_trying to make sure you keep good on your word_

_I’m not the one in a war zone_

_It’s a big war though, maybe I’ll bump into you one day_

_guess that means it’s time for that goodbye?_  

They were fragments of fragments, but they were Bucky’s, his voice, the way he got lost in what he was saying, it was as beautiful as every other part of him. More than enough to come home too.


	12. A Guy like Him

For all the worry he’d had about the war messing with his head by the time he got there he realised he didn’t have all that much time to think about it, which was something at least. Between the exhaustion, hunger and heartbreak the permanent damage to his psyche was the last thing on his mind. It was a damaged one already, and one that he’d thought had seen as crazy as it got, until Azzano. Before then, Nazi’s had just been Nazi’s, what need could there possibly be to differentiate between different factions? He’d never even heard the name HYDRA until they fired on the tanks and the hail of bullets that had been beating his men into the ground came to an undignified halt. As it turns out though, the enemy of thy enemy is not always thy friend. There wasn’t even time to react when the weapons, likes of which he’d never seen, turned their attention to the other half of the battle. A half that hadn’t been able to hold off the regular Nazis with regular tanks, let alone whatever had replaced them. Bloodbath was the only way to describe it, the worst one Bucky had seen. At the end of it he wasn’t sure who’d been the winner; the survivors, the captives, or the dead. None of the options came without dire consequences.

After they were captured he hadn’t known what to expect, he’d sat through briefings on POW camps, what to do if he was taken by the enemy, heard all the horror stories the other men had too, but whatever this HYDRA was it felt like a different set of rules entirely. They walked and talked like the thing they’d been trained to fight, and yet they defied all of that and became something new. Bucky came to the conclusion that the only path from Nazism was to something worse, and there wasn’t meant to be anything worse. 

At first, he was just building things, weapons, flight components, and unlike most of the other men he had a half-baked understanding of what they were actually doing. His Father had told him he was too smart for his own good when he was a kid. One time he’d corrected Mr Wicks, the guy who owned the shop at the corner of their block, on his math, got a clip round the ear for it and came home crying, he was only nine.

“Don’t be such a Pansy”, his Dad had said, “Try manning up a bit before you go stirring up other people’s shit next time”. It was the first time he’d heard the word Pansy, and Fairy, Faggot, Queer and Queen soon followed. He didn’t know what it meant the first time, except that it was bad, the opposite of what a man should be. The meaning came later, and the more he understood the more he hid. Sometimes he wondered how he would’ve turned out if he’d never heard those things, he wasn’t opposed to some lipstick and a little bit of rouge on occasion, but they scared him. Not everyone got to do what they liked at all times, in his life that equalled needing to pass as like everyone else, but at some point what was really him and who he needed to be to survive became indistinguishable from one another. What he had done all those years was stayed as smart as he'd became strong, his mother had made sure of that.

The food was meagre and the hours were long, he saw guys lose arms because they fell asleep with their foot pressed down on something it shouldn’t have been. He told himself that they lived. It forced him to stay awake, to stay focused, the war could only go on so long, and he’d left New York with a promise of a home once it was over. Besides, he couldn’t leave Stevie, he was probably out cold in an alleyway at that very moment, someone had to stick around to keep him out of trouble. Unfortunately, the usefulness that had kept him alive quickly burnt him out, and eventually his body, weakened by beatings, could take no more of the endless labour. So they found a different use for him. In the moment it’d felt like they knew everything about him, including the one thing he’d spent a lifetime hiding. Hydra really was a reptile, tentacles twisting into his deepest darkest secrets. How they’d found out he wasn’t sure, he didn’t want to be sure, the only thing he could think was why him? There were a thousand other guys out there who’s dirty laundry they could dig up, what made his so interesting?

It didn’t take long for his grasp of time to fade away, the days stopped being marked by minutes and hours and instead by the litany of needles and experiments that felt like they became as much a part of him as breathing. Zola only ever found glee in his prisoner’s pain, mumbling about how he was going to, “take the un-fixable and make it pure”. That hurt the most, feeling like he was being played with by some Nazi zealot trying to torture the gay away. It was something there’d always been whispers about, pink triangles in concentration camps, Hitler’s general distaste for anyone different. However, the big difference was wondering how many of his fellow prisoners, who’d only weeks ago staged an unfortunate accident to save him from the wrath of a particularly vindictive captor, would agree with Zola on that one. All part of the same old rhetoric, there were always stories about guys who’d tried to change, some just prayed, others turned to doctors and scientist with promises of cures and a happy life. In his experience it was all bullshit, the only thing at the end of that road was misery and the empty shells of people who no longer existed. No words or beatings could ever have been enough to make him want to put himself through that.

At a certain point, he’d resigned himself to his fate, there wasn’t much else he could do except repeat his rank and number through numb lips. He thought about Loki, would he even know? They hadn’t had any contact for nearly a year, as far as he knew he was still on the front lines. Of course, he’d be reported MIA first, or if the brass were being really pessimistic they might skip that step, his parents would tell Steve, who’d tell Connie, who Bucky’d left with Loki’s address in London, but who knows if he’d ever even go back there? It was a sad state of affairs he was leaving his life in, but was it really ever going to end any other way for a guy like him?


	13. Waiting Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Back! I took a break because of exams, and I just didn't have time to go through and edit everything, but I'll go back to posting a new chapter or two every week now I'm on Christmas break from Uni.

The next time Loki saw Steve it was by complete chance. The SSR had been called to Italy after HYDRA forces had captured most of the 107th Infantry, just shy of fifty making it back alive or injured. When push came to shove there wasn’t much they could do if anything the defeat had given them vital intel. Schmidt wouldn’t be going to the trouble of capturing US soldiers if he didn’t need them for something, and prisoners made for good, cheap, disposable labour. Whatever he was building clearly couldn't be done entirely on his own dime.

Phillips was cold, not heartless, he’d looked into trying to launch a rescue mission, but the reports from survivors made it clear that it’d be impractical at best and suicidal at worst. Loki guessed they’d thought a visit from Captain America might cheer everyone up, but they were in a battlefield in Europe, not a music hall in Ohio. Nobody was interested in a display of subpar acting from the star-spangled-man.

“Well, that was painful”, said Loki. He and Peggy were watching from the Colonel’s tent as Cap called the dancing showgirls back on stage. For a fleeting moment, he was ashamed that this was the man who’d won out in New York. Peggy only glared at him. “What, you’re thinking it as much as I am”. Her silence only confirmed it. The two of them had become somewhat close since Loki’s attachment to the SSR, not friends but close. She’d even started calling him by his real name, so had Howard, something he’d explained away as a childhood nickname. Oh God, maybe they were all friends. Not that he was an expert in the field of platonic relationships.

“It’s not his fault”, said Peggy after a long pause, “He doesn’t know what happened”. They broke apart and Peggy went to find the Captain presumably to explain the situation, Loki being more than happy to stay put until they came rushing back in a while later.

“Colonel Phillips”, Steve’s voice had certainly gotten more assertive since the last time Loki’d seen him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?” Let’s just say Phillips wasn’t a man used to being told no and had been less than impressed at Senator Brandt’s little tour show.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano”. said Steve.

“You don’t get to give me orders, son”.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh”. Up until then Loki had only been half listening, the Captain’s existential crisis about his purpose was of little use to him after all, but if James Barnes was Bucky then all sorts of pieces just came into play. Steve, that Steve, Captain America that he’d tried to kill eighty years in the future, was Bucky’s Steve, little Stevie who got beat up in alleyways. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, there must’ve been a million Steve’s in Brooklyn and Bucky could’ve been best friends with any one of them.

Phillips shot a look that wanted to kill at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy”, which Loki thought rather an ambitious goal.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell”, the Colonel looked down at the mounting stack of letters on his desk, “I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry”.

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?”

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war”, a minute earlier Loki would have agreed with him.

“But if you know where they are, why not at least…?” Now he saw it, the Steve Bucky had described, so desperate to always do the right thing to the point of naivety.

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that, because you’re a chorus girl”.

“I think I understand just fine”.

“Well then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”. Loki sympathised with Phillips frustrations, there were a pile of condolences in front of him that needed sending, and another pile of ones that still needed filling out. Then there was some kid, who by all accounts had seen fifteen minutes of action trying to tell him what to do. 

“Yes, sir. I do”, and Rogers didn’t waste any time, taking a quick scan of the map and leaving. 

With the pseudo-Captain gone Phillips turned his attention back to his Agent, “If you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself”. Peggy was about as impressed with Phillips as Steve was and took his advice to leave without saying another word. At that point, Loki was frozen, quietly loitering in the corner of the tent. If he stood still maybe none of it would be true, surely there were enough James Barnes’ in Brooklyn for more than one of them to have a scrawny friend named Steve, but he realised in all the letters Bucky had never told him his unit, he’d never thought to ask. Phillips had turned away from his desk to light up a cigarette and he took his chance, picking up the casualty list he scanned the document looking for one thing and one thing alone. Loki’s chest sank when he saw it, ‘Sergeant James  _ Buchanan  _ Barnes’, in big black letters on a list of the damned. 

“What the hell you doing with that!” yelled Phillips, “Get the hell after them, make sure they don’t do anything stupid”. Loki had a sneaking suspicion he was about to disobey orders.

He found Peggy and Steve, catching the tail end of what was either an argument or flirting. On the one hand, Peggy was as collected as ever, “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects-”

“-By the time he’s done that, it could be too late!” by contrast Steve was on the outside everything Loki was on the inside as he stormed to one of the Jeeps. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word”.

“Then you gotta let me go”, there was a delicacy to Steve’s plea that shocked him, he really was Bucky’s Steve wasn’t he. Loki couldn’t imagine caring about anyone else enough to hatch some half-baked rescue plan for.

“I can do more than that”, said Peggy, “Loki”, she went on without so much as a look backwards, “You’re a pilot, what do you think the chances are of being able to fly thirty miles behind enemy lines without being shot from the sky”.

Loki knew what she was asking, he’d done crazier, easily, but he had his hand pinned behind his back in fear it would start trembling, the last thing he should be doing is getting behind the controls of a plane, “I wouldn’t do it alone. Besides a pilot isn’t much use without a plane”, and they both only knew one civilian with access to one.

XXX

Staring out at the inky forest from the co-pilot’s seat was about all Loki could do to keep his mind off the reality of what they were doing. Not only was there every chance Bucky was already dead, but this little stunt could also get him fired from the SSR and jeopardize his entire plan, then what would he do? Join HYDRA? Knowing they’d killed Bucky it was unlikely he’d get very far.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind”, explained Peggy.

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep”, shouted Stark above his headset and engine noise.

“Just get me as close as you can”, said Steve, “You know, you three are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab”.

“And you won’t?” asked Peggy

“Where I’m goin’, if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em”.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back”.

“Well, let’s hope it’s good for somethin”, said Steve, giving a pathetic little tap-tap to his shield.

“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue”. Loki looked at Howard, his boyfriend was presumed dead and they were on a rescue mission to save him and he was making a futile attempt to get into Agent Carter's pants. He wasn’t sure his look entirely conveyed that, but it was as close as he was going to get in his current state. Peggy just glanced awkwardly at Steve who looked nervous for all the wrong reasons whilst getting ready to jump out of a moving plane.

“Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen, and Serrure was ATA, he knows these skies better than anyone, between them they can fly anywhere”, Loki was happy to be included although he wasn’t sure he was being much help. “Stark’s mad enough to brave this airspace, we’re lucky to have him”.

“So are you two…? Do you…? Fondue?” Thankfully everyone elected to ignore whatever had come out of Steve’s mouth.

“This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you”, said Peggy.

“Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal”, Howard might have been speaking in jest, but it was an uncomfortable reminder of how ridiculous their plan was. Almost as uncomfortable as the hail of gunfire that opened up on them, when Steve went for the back of the plane.

“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in”, Now Peggy was the one yelling.

“As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!”

“You can’t give me orders!”

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Bloody Hell, if the Nazi’s didn’t kill Loki, those two certainly would.

“Do you boys think you can get us out of this?” asked Peggy, switching her attention back to the current crisis.

“If Rogers can pull Bucky from a war zone, then we can fly this plane”, said Loki, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

XXX

When they made it back to base they got about the welcome they deserved, Colonel Phillips screaming something about having to call the President. Once they were finally released Loki sculcked back to his bunk, digging the photostrip of Bucky back out. He couldn’t imagine that face war torn, there’d always been a certain amount of solumness in Bucky, except for in the most private of moments, but Loki had seen war and what it did to men and the best often came back with the worst scares. 

“Knock Knock”, called Peggy from the doorway, prompting Loki to throw the picture back into his book, but she’d ended up Director Carter for a reason and it took her all of two seconds to fish the photo out. “Feel like explaining this?” Her eyebrows were raised, but her features softer than he’d ever seen them.

Loki laughed, “How did you know?”

“You’re a good Spy Serrure”, she said, “But we both know you’re not as good as me. You called him Bucky on the plane, Steve didn’t tell you, how else would you know his nickname unless…”

“I knew him”.

“Not to mention you once flew further behind enemy lines to save Stark, why would this time be any different”. Uncomfortable silence grew between them, Loki albut able to see the words brewing behind Carter’s lips.

“You look like you want to say something, it’s the same face you use on Phillips”, he said.

“If you know Barnes, how do you not know Steve, and how does he not know you?”

“I think we both know why”, the game was up, nobody carried around a photo of someone who was just their friend, besides Loki might not have shouted his proclivities from the rooftop but he’d dodged enough questions from Stark about girlfriends and declined too many evenings in sleazy strip joints for someone to catch on. Even Steve didn’t have a picture of Bucky in his back pocket. He didn’t think anyway.

“Are you okay?” Loki could feel his hand finally start to tremor under the pressure of what had been not just a bad day, but a truly awful couple of years. He thought about Thor, and Ragnarok, Odin, Hela, Thanos, New York, the Tesseract, Bucky had been the one good thing stacked against all of that, and there was every chance he was about to lose him forever.

“I will be”, if Bucky comes back, but right then Loki didn’t want to think about the alternative, “Just, don’t tell Rogers, he doesn’t know”. Peggy gave a firm nod as she backed slowly away from the room, seeing that Loki was in no mood for company, knowing that they had all entered another tense game of waiting.


	14. Love and Coincidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Hope everyone enjoys the next two chapters (and get ready for two badly timed holiday chapters next week!) and has a great day whatever you're doing!

Bucky wasn’t all that lucid for most of the escape, the whole thing with Red Skull or Schmidt or whatever he wanted to be called was, to say the least, weird. Not to mention, seeing Zola made him sick to his stomach and seeing Steve like that was downright confusing. You’d think a thirty mile march after that much time in captivity would be grueling, but the further they moved the more amped up the men got and the faster they seemed to walk.

They were welcomed back as heroes, hoards of people gathered round them to see the impossible. For a second he thought the most surprising thing he’d see that day was Steve being flirted with, but he noticed the same girl look back through the crowd and his eyes widened at who she was looking at weave his way gracefully to the front of the group.

“It’s good to see you Captain”, said Loki, holding his hand out for Steve to shake.

“Uhh, Bucky this is Agent Serrure, he helped get me into Austria”.

“Hi”, smiled Bucky taking hold of Loki’s hand as if he was expecting it to fade away into a dream or be someone else entirely. They didn’t though, they were both real, hands touching in a sea of people that were drowned out by the beautiful coincidence standing in front of him.

It appeared that the 107th’s rescue had caused more of a commotion than their capture, and it was hours before Bucky could sneak away from the paperwork and the doctors. He found Loki sat on his bed nervously picking at his left hand, tapping his foot in time with his habit, as soon as he walked in though he shot up and yanked him into his arms. The emotions ran over and they both burst out laughing at the sheer shock of seeing each other again.

“I thought you were dead”, whispered Loki, still holding onto to Bucky like their lives depended on it, and he realised he’d never heard his voice sound so small before.

“Good job someone decided to play hero”. Bucky could’ve sworn Loki’s pale cheeks blushed ever so slightly at the compliment.

“Well, as much as I’d like to, I can’t really take credit for that one”. Their surprise bred into silence as the pair of them darted their eyes up and down each others bodies, taking in all the new details of two years of war.

“So, Agent”, said Bucky, “You’re a spy?”

“Is that a problem?” 

“No, it actually explains a lot”, Bucky thought about the scar that was still emblazoned on Loki’s neck, how he’d squirmed in revolt the moment he’d tried to touch it when it had still been a fresh wound. The only difference this time was Bucky’s own broken skin. He was exhausted, the long trek finally catching up with him and it took every ounce of self control to not fall asleep in Loki’s bed, the taller man pressed tight against him in the small frame. A few tearful words later and Bucky was ready to force himself back to his bunk, dragging one last kiss across Loki’s lips. He was about to leave when he felt a hand clutch his arm and stop him.

“Wait”, whispered Loki, he inched forward, reaching out to wipe away the specs of dirt still left on Bucky’s face, “I love you”, he smiled at his confession, “I realised that’s all I wanted to tell you during all of this, and I was so scared that you’d...be gone before I got the chance”.

Bucky sighed, standing on his tip toes slightly, to press a kiss on Loki’s forehead, it was a perfect moment in an otherwise awful time, “I love you too”.

XXX

He smiled from ear to ear on his way back to bed, the bunks filled with newly free men too scared to go to sleep, all happy wasting time away until they passed out cold. Seeing Steve again was almost as weird as seeing Loki, only because of how different he looked. Bucky had been given the basics on the march back from Azzano, but the whole thing still seemed almost impossible, and if he hadn’t just seen a bright red skull-man go toe to toe with his best friend he probably wouldn’t have believed any of it. 

All in all he tried not to think about Zola, and between him, Loki, and Steve suddenly being a super soldier he didn’t have much trouble pushing it away. His dreams had other ideas. That first night on the base was only the beginning, he was back in his parents apartment, the night he drowned his sorrows in a back alley, his mother was wailing louder than he’d heard anyone cry in his life, like a thousand soldiers screaming out for mercy.  _ “Would you hate me? Because I did, for the longest time, but I don’t wanna hate me Ma, and I don’t want you to either” _ , his drunken fantasy back at the forefront of his subconscious.

_ “How could you do this to me!” _ his mother screamed, a perfume bottle smashing behind his left ear as a bomb went off in the distance,  _ “After everything I gave you!” _

_ “Ma, stop you don’t understand, I met someone, I’m in love!”. _

_ “Love! People like you don’t feel love!”  _ she hissed, and she spat, the words devouring him the way a snake takes its prey, and he was so focused on his mother’s tears he didn't even notice Zola appearing behind her.

_ “See Sergeant Barnes, all we were trying to do was help you” _ , the small man said, his words drowning out his mother’s cries.

_ “What the hell is going on in here?”  _ Mr Barnes appeared by the door, looking meaner than usual, nobody had to tell him what was happening before his fist was clenched and swinging towards his sons face. Again, and again, and again, until he was on the floor, Zola whispering in his ear.

_ “Look at everything that could’ve been avoided if you’d let me finish my work” _ . His father threw him from the floor into the living room, his family vanishing and the worn down furniture of his childhood was replaced by a cold metal table. Suddenly, he felt the familiar barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head, guiding him to lie down on the slab. Needles pressed into his arm and lights flashed above him, absent water filled his lungs. He turned to his left and saw Steve, not the new man with muscles and a shield, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn, who was too up for a fight for his own good.

_ “Steve” _ , he pleaded, hoping his oldest friend would offer him safety. 

_ “How could you lie to me?” _

_ “What?” _

_ “You lied, our whole lives you let me think we were friends” _ .

_ “We are friends, we’re best friends”,  _ said Bucky, tears filling his eyes,  _ “What are you talking about?” _

_ “I don’t even know you, I should’ve left you, what makes you worthy of saving over all those other people?”  _ Steve disappeared, the only other person left in the room a vengeful Zola ready to finish what he’d started.

_ “Steve, Steve please,  _ Steve?” Bucky was bolt upright before he woke up all the way, Steve, the real Steve, looming over him, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

“It was just...”, he could feel his voice faltering, “Just a dream”.


	15. The Things We Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised I'm not exactly posting happy chapters for Christmas Day, and this one is just solid angst to be honest, I promise there will be fluff next week!

Everyone involved in the escape was given leave in London, a gesture that seemed kind on the surface but Loki suspected it was more about giving the S.S.R time to revive project rebirth now that Captain America’s abilities had been proven in the field. He wasn’t complaining though, and hopefully once they were on the other side of the chanel he and Bucky might be able to get a moment's peace to themselves.

They spent the first night in the pub, most of the men happy to blow off some steam after all that time in captivity. Himself, Carter, and the newly formed Howling Commandos had been put up in a not displeasing hotel that Bucky and Loki had snuck off to as quickly as possible. The door had barely closed before Bucky’s hands were all over Loki, the lingering taste of beer passing between their lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this”, Bucky practically moaned under the pressure of Loki’s body.

“I see your time in captivity has done nothing to decrease your sex drive”, said Loki, who was also more than eager to break his recent bout of celibacy. They didn’t even make it to the bed, Bucky instead simply pushing Loki face first into the nearest wall. There was something desperate about the way he clawed at Loki’s skin, bracing himself with one arm splayed out on the wall and the other curled possessively around Loki’s half-bare chest, almost like he had something to prove.

Between the hotel, the sex, the going to sleep breathless and disheveled, it was almost like being back in New York, countdown to war included. The main difference this time was Bucky, he hardly slept, sometimes Loki would wake up to a cold bed and find Bucky slumped in the bathtub, sweat dripping down his forehead. Loki wondered when the last time he’d slept in a real bed was. There were scars that he hadn’t seen before, some from Zola, some just from the war, a skyline of needle marks clustered on the inside of his left elbow painted a sad picture. Loki was no stranger to torture or its lingering effects, but to see them so at home behind Bucky’s eyes was a new kind of pain. It’s easy to be disinterested in your own demons, to ignore how they weigh heavy on your shoulders, but watching them stalk someone else is like a cruel trick the universe plays on you to make you finally care. 

XXX

“Are you okay?” He already knew the answer, Bucky had been stood staring out over the city, watching as blackout curtains were pulled down and the view flickered into darkness.

“I’m fine”.

“It’s cold Bucky, come back inside at least”, said Loki, “Please”. Bucky turned to look at him, his wounds all but gone on the surface. He took at step forward, close enough to run his fingers across the halfway open shirt hanging loosely around Loki’s chest, raising his head to meet his before running his lips across his mouth, only to abandon the pursuit to feather kisses across his jaw line.

“Bucky, this isn’t the-”, he was cut off by the feeling of skilled fingers running across his belt buckle.

“Baby, please, I don’t wanna talk”. Loki took a deep breath in, since their arrival in London they’d had a lot of sex, a weird amount if he was being honest, which probably wasn’t the best coping mechanism on the planet, however enjoyable it might have been.

“Bucky, stop...Talk to me”. It really was a sorry state of affairs when Loki of all people was the one having to offer emotional guidance. Bucky sulked away to the edge of the bed, letting his head drop to his hands, the surface finally cracking under the pressure of bottled tears, all before letting out a yell so visceral it shook even the Asgardian to his bones. He knelt down next to him, kissing his nose so it crinkled in the way that forced a smile to grace Bucky’s lips.

“Do you remember that night in the hotel, after your show?” asked Loki, Bucky nodded, “So let me help you”.

“I need...I need to feel something, something that doesn’t just hurt”.

“Tell me, tell me what happened?” There was a pause, only silence and the faint sounds of the city from the open window remained to fill the room.

“Can I ask you a question?” asked Bucky

“Of course”.

“How’d you get the scar on your neck?” Loki’s stomach sank at hearing the one question he didn’t ever want to answer. He’d explained it away to the army as a childhood riding accident, but he’d promised not to lie, especially so obviously.

“Why?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, despite his quivering voice.

“You’re asking me aint ya?” 

“This isn’t the same. I’m not the one waking up in cold sweats every night”.

“How is it not the same”, Bucky said, his voice raising with every syllable, “You’ve got other scars, I’ve seen them, you don’t even notice, but that one, even now, you flinch whenever I get near it!” Loki understood the confusion, the ever persistent bruising around his neck was hardly the worst scar he’d ever acquired, and he’d never really paid them much attention, maybe because they’d always been hidden, behind tricks or fine fabrics. On the other hand, waking up every morning and having to face his defeat, his cowardice, in the mirror was bad enough and the idea of anyone putting their hands where his had been was just unbearable. 

“I told you when we first met, there are things about me that I can’t tell you, that you don’t want to know”.

“But I do! I know I’ve no right to ask, but I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t wanna know ‘cause I do”.

“Why does it matter?” asked Loki, walking away from the bed, Bucky quick on his heels.

“Because I…” his voice faltered and a single tear pooled in his left eye, “I need to know how you live through whatever the hell the story behind all that is and then fly a plane into a warzone day after day!”

_ Oh _ , “Bucky”, Loki sighed, “I wish I had an answer for you, but…”

“But what?”

“This”, he said waving to the scars around his neck, “It isn’t the same, they were a separate matter, nothing to do with the war”, at least not the one Bucky was fighting. 

“I don’t understand?” Before Loki could say anything a knock started echoing from the door.

“Wait here”.

“Oh, really, I was gonna go up, introduce myself to housekeeping”. 

Except when Loki opened the door, it wasn’t housekeeping, instead he was face to face with an extremely unimpressed Peggy, “Do you two plan on keeping the hotel up the entire night?” she asked, eyebrows raised, “If this is some lovers quarrel I suggest you have it somewhere a little more private”.

“You told her!” Bucky said with a raised whisper.

“Well it definitely is now”. Loki glared at Peggy, he’d meant to tell Bucky that Agent Carter had found out about their relationship, but with everything else it had never seemed like the right moment. 

“Sergeant Barnes”, Peggy, to her credit, tried to explain, but it was already too late. 

“It’s fine, I’m leaving anyway”, said Bucky, as he pushed his body through the small gap between his boyfriend and Carter, disappearing down the corridor before anyone else could say something. 

“Loki, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“Let’s not, Agent Carter, it appears no one will be keeping you awake anytime soon”.

XXX

It was two days before Loki was able to get Bucky alone, the Sergeant having spent them glued to Steve’s hip. Loki couldn't’ tell if he was just trying to avoid him or make sure Carter didn’t spill his secret. He finally managed to corner him in a supply closet before they shipped out for Europe

“What do you want Loki?”

“To talk, to explain”.

“Explain what?” asked Bucky, the snap in his voice and red in his eyes cutting through the air like one of Sif’s swords. “You know I don’t tell people, especially people that seem pretty sweet on my best friend!”

“I didn’t tell her anything, she’s smart, she figured it out all on her own believe it or not”.

“Yeah or not! You’re a walking safe, so sorry if I don’t buy you just letting something slip and her putting the pieces together!”

“Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the man I love had been taken captive and I had no way of knowing if you were alive or dead! So, apologies if I wasn’t watching every little thing I said that day!” Bucky’s face froze, realisation creeping in, and suddenly he was pulling Loki into his arms

“I’m sorry”, he said.

“What for?”

“For not thinking, what that must’ve been like for you”.

“Does this mean we can talk now?” asked Loki, stepping back so they could see each other’s faces again, “I can go first?”

“You don’t have to. I should never have asked in the first place”. 

Loki appreciated the sentiments, but he knew that if he didn’t say anything the question would hang over them, growing until they were buried by it,“It’s fine”, he said, “I want to”. The two of them took perches on some of the boxes in the storage room, and Loki decided that he would do his best to tell the truth, “The man who did this, I worked for him, a long time ago, before the war, before everything, and he entrusted me with something very precious and I lost it...this”, he said pointing to his neck, “Was punishment, in a roundabout sort of way”.

“What does he think happened to you?” Bucky asked.

“He thinks I’m dead”, which Loki really needed to be true, hopefully destroying half the universe didn’t leave much time to think about someone you strangled with your bare hands and blew up for good measure. “Your turn”.

The sigh through gritted teeth said it all, “It hurt, all the time, but they knew things, about me, about what kinda guy I am, said they wanted to ‘fix’ me”. Suddenly everything made sense, no wonder he was desperately trying to bone at every chance he got, he was probably terrified to prove that he could. “I keep thinkin’ I’m gonna wake up one day and not be me anymore, and I can’t do that, I can’t. Not after I spent so much time getting to be okay with it”, Bucky’s words tumbled out between tears, and then the tears didn’t stop. Loki wasn’t exactly good at the whole emotional comfort thing, but he let Bucky fall into his shoulders anyway, not quite able to tell him that everything was going to be alright. They stayed like that for nearly an hour before the whimpers finally faded out, and Barnes decided it was probably best he spent the night alone and shuffled off to his room. 

Dinner that night was a little awkward, the Captain went to check on his absent friend halfway through the meal, and Stark had his hands down someone's pants somewhere, leaving himself and Peggy alone at a table together. The pair having not really spoken since the incident.

“I’m sorry Loki”, Peggy at last blurted out, “I should’ve checked before I just assumed”.

“It’s fine”, Loki said, “I should’ve told him sooner anyway”.

“Is he okay?”

“I have no idea, emotion has never been my strong suit”, admitted Loki, it was true, maybe all he needed was time to recover and get his head straight, or maybe the sweet, rambling guy from Brooklyn he’d met two years earlier would remain buried beneath a layer of trauma forever.    


	16. Cold Airs Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this is late! Sorry, my entire Christmas was kind of a dumpster fire from beginning to end, so this kinda got put on the back burner until I was home. But thank you so much to the people who commented on Christmas, it meant a lot!

Alpine Winters were harsh and body heat was a precious thing. Which was annoying, because it could have been the perfect excuse to cuddle up with Loki during long nights on duty, if for one, Loki and Carter didn’t have their own bunks, or two the pair weren’t currently on some super secret mission he wasn’t allowed to know anything about. The only thing Loki had let slip was that they were going to be states side and that they were supposed to be back before Christmas. Which Bucky felt was rotten luck for them but couldn’t say he was mad about getting to spend the holidays together. It also meant he’d been able to send Loki off with instructions to get some half decent Christmas gifts for his family, and ones that actually had a shot at arriving on time.

He still missed him though, missed sneaking into his room once everyone was asleep, especially after bad days. They always had the worst timing, they’d literally had a few weeks together before being separated again, Bucky was starting to think they were cursed.

“I don’t want you to go”, Bucky said, curled into Loki’s side the night before he shipped out, “Feels like I just got you back”.

“And you’ll get me back again, I swear”.

“I know, it’s just, I was sorta getting used to having you around, makes me feel like I’m home”, he confessed, shuffling even further into Loki’s chest.

Loki sighed, “Okay, when I was a child my Father travelled a lot, my Brother too when he got older, and I used to be convinced the monsters were going to come and get me whilst they were gone”, he explained, and Bucky couldn’t quite hold back a small laugh.

“You?” He said, shocked at the revelation. “Were scared of the monsters under the bed?”

“I was a child!” Loki’s jaw dropped as he defended himself, “Everyone was scared of the monsters, stop laughing, can I finish my story now?” Bucky nodded, biting his lip. “Anyway, whenever I’d get upset and want them to come home, my Mother would tell me to look at the stars and remind myself that wherever we were the same light would shine on all of us eventually, and that meant I was safe because anyone who wanted to hurt me could see the light as well”. It was a sweet story, but Bucky could see Loki’s smile sour as the past and the present slid into one another.

“That was really beautiful”, he said, “You okay?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be”, replied Loki, “You’re the one that’s getting left behind in a freezing warzone”. The quip was a sharp reminder of just how much danger they were all in at any given moment. Whether it was the Nazi’s that got them, Hydra, or perhaps it would just be the damn ice and sickness that’d send them to their graves. War was harsh, and it was even harsher alone.

“It’s...You never talk about your Mom that’s all, she sounds pretty great”.

“She was the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, not to mention about the only person in my family without a list of character defects long enough to stretch from here to Berlin”.

“Yeah, well I love you, defects and all, but do me a favour”.

“Anything”

“Try not to get anymore whilst you’re away, you deserve a little happiness for a while”. By then Bucky was completely draped over Loki. Leg hanging over his thigh and all. “Besides”, he said deciding to change the subject and just mount Loki entirely, “The only, and I mean only person allowed to leave marks on this body of yours is me”.

Loki smirked, “You know”, he said glancing over at the small alarm clock propped up next to his bed, “I have to be on a plane in six hours, we might want to just go to sleep”.

“We?”

“Yes, we, I thought you could stay the night for once”. Normally Bucky snuck off in the small hours of the morning, soldiers woke up early after all. “Come on, I’ll be going by five, the only other person likely to catch us is Carter, and that ship has well and truly sailed”. He thought a moment, they hadn’t woken up together since London, and there was nothing quite like opening your eyes with your lips inches from a kiss. “Unless you don’t want to”.

“No, of course I do, that sounds great”, and so for the first time in a long while he took the easy route, he laid down in bed, boyfriend wrapped around him and went to sleep. After thoroughly ruining Loki’s bedsheets one last time of course.

XXX

“You okay Buck?” asked Steve a few weeks later, swiping a cigarette from the open packet in Bucky’s hand. Neither of them had smoked before the war, if either of them had little Stevie’s lungs probably would’ve given out. But, the Army had a knack of instilling one or two nasty habits. Loki hated it. Said it made him taste off, which was weirdly why he’d started smoking more in his absence. The memory of his rolling eyes as he lit up a cigarette after sex and demand one last kiss before it felt like making out with an ashtray never failed to bring a smile to Bucky’s lips.

“Yeah, just thinkin’ a minute”, he replied, taking one long drag and blowing the smoke into the wind, “What about you? Your face has been stuck like that for days”. Steve tried shifting his expression but wound up just making it more twisted and uncomfortable. “You know it’s okay to be worried about her”, because he was worried too, pretty much all the time, terrified of the day Phillips would walk into their bunks and tell them they weren’t coming back.

“Oh come on, Peggy’d rip my head off’ she knew I was moping around all worried after her”.

“Only ‘cause she doesn’t want people lookin’ at her like some damsel in distress that needs Captain America to come save her”. At the end of the day, Peggy had more to prove than any of them. Steve might have come from nothing, but the rest of the world didn’t know that. All they saw was the strong, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, all American heartthrob smacking lips with the cute brunette. The only person Steve had anything left to prove to was himself, which granted might wind up his greatest challenge ever.

“You know that’s not how I see her”.

“I know”, he replied, “Which is why it’s okay to be worried about her because she knows it too. You think she’d touch you with a ten-foot pole otherwise?” Steve laughed, and Bucky went to bed that night with the knowledge that even if he got minus five hours of sleep, at least his friend would get a little more.

 


	17. Down to the Wire

As it happened, Loki didn’t mind the cold for obvious reasons. Which was good because whilst D.C wasn’t quite as cold as the snow-capped Mountains of Europe, it was cold enough that Peggy was bundled up in layer upon layer of wool as they wandered along the busy streets four days before Christmas. He’d sent the presents for Bucky’s family a few days after they’d arrived, not wanting to be responsible for any delays, but Bucky’s own present was another issue altogether. He’d gotten a scarf for his Mom, a new razor for his Dad, and a Notebook for his little sister, as well as some candy for his younger siblings to share, but that had all been on Bucky’s specific orders. He was clueless as regards to what he’d get for the man himself. If he spent too much then Bucky would only complain, but he still wanted to treat him to something nice.

“Will you please just help me!” Loki begged as he and Peggy wandered down through the sprawling streets of the capital. It might as well have been another world to the one they had waiting for them in Europe.

“And here’s me thinking you weren’t capable of asking for help”, Peggy said, an unmistakable smirk across her face.

“How funny, now will you please stop teasing and help me?”

“Okay, okay”, she said after an agonising pause, “What’s one thing you don’t like about him?”

“What?” Loki was confused, he wasn’t sure there was anything he didn’t like about Bucky.

“Show him that you love everything about him, even the bits that drive you insane”.

“Why?”

“You really do know nothing about human emotion do you?” Loki sighed, even with her advice and assistance it took them several more hours for them to find something that he deemed worthy of Bucky. It was actually sort of fun spending time with Peggy outside of work, she was intelligent and quick-witted enough to keep up with him, an honour reserved to very few. In fact, Loki was rather enjoying having friends for a change.

However, when they got back to the safe house they’d been staying in, they quickly signed out the agent that had been covering them and got back to the reason they were in DC in the first place. The professor and his wife living across the hall from them had been pegged as potential Hydra spies. The husband having spent the majority of his academic career studying Norse mythology, and if they were interpreting materials for Schmitt then they could be a crucial link to take out of his chain. It was tedious work, but Phillips had wanted senior agents on hand in case anything went sideways or something important was found. They’d introduced themselves as husband and wife, which was weird and something they’d decided early on was a detail that wasn’t going to make it back to Bucky or Steve. As far as their across the hall neighbours knew Loki was a low-level diplomat who’d been transferred to the British embassy. The most exciting thing they’d done was host a dinner party so that agents had the chance to search their home without being disturbed. Playing host to Mr and Mrs Wetherton, the likely Nazi spies was not what Loki considered enjoyable work.

The next couple of days past like the entire mission had, slowly and mind numbingly listening to everything that went on in the Wetherton household, and that meant everything. They might have been in Hydra’s pocket but they had a vigorous sex life. Something which Peggy argued was Loki’s job to transcript, so he could make up for all the times she’d heard him and Bucky through the wall. That night though, Loki was rudely awoken by the blaring ring of the bedside table telephone.

“Hello”, he said, the tiredness evident in his groggy and strained voice.

“Agent Serrure”, it was Colonel Phillips, “Listen to me there’s been a security breach in the British embassy, you and Carter need to get-”. The line went dead, and Loki dropped the phone and began to shake awake the still half asleep Carter. Her eyes opening just as they heard the sound of the door smash open.

It was a quick fight, the bookish and inexperienced Professor being no match for two trained fighters, Carter had shot him within minutes. The accompanying silencer thankfully enough to avoid any police interference. When they went to search his apartment they found the body of Mrs Wetherton, apparently unaware of her husband's misdeeds.

“Poor woman”, said Peggy, as her body was being zipped away so the investigation could continue without the smell of a rotting corpse permeating the air.

“Quite”, Loki agreed, if she was, in fact, innocent then her husband must’ve been truly desperate after learning he was compromised.  

“Sir”, said one of the SSR agents gathering evidence, “We found this, looks like he had a meeting Christmas Eve, guy by the name of Richard Ingram, local fence”, the man handed over a small diary detailing the exchange.

“He was trying to buy something”, said Carter, jumping in between Loki and the agent.

“A book by the looks of it Mam”.

“Does anyone know that Wetherton failed? That we’re still alive?” asked Loki.

“Not yet”, replied Carter, “Why?”

“If he was buying something for Hydra, getting to it could be crucial”.

“So we send someone in his place”. Watching Peggy Carter work was something truly unique, it was a tragedy that the men around her couldn’t see it half the time. “You”, she said pointing at one of the agents, “Spread the word around that two British Nationals have been pulled out of the Potomac, we need Hydra to think that Wetherton’s still in play”.

“Yes Mam”, the agents responded dutifully. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t difficult to find an agent hoping to make a name for himself to impersonate Wetherton, and the plan was set in place. The meeting was taking place about thirty minutes south of D.C at a secluded section of park in Virginia. It was risky, but if they got what they needed it meant he might actually make it back to Europe in time to spend Christmas with Bucky.

Himself and Peggy were sat in a surveillance van parked out of sight of the deal, and everything seemed fine at first. Agent Vines was in place to make the deal with the amount of cash Wetherton had specified, and they could hear everything through the wire he was wearing, All it took were two words for everything to go to shit.

They heard the clasping of hands and then nothing but, “Hail Hydra”, before he fired the gun. Except, unlike Wetherton he hadn’t been armed with a rudimentary handgun. No, he was brandishing a fully functioning Hydra weapon, more akin to the guns on Sakaar than on Earth. At first, Loki didn’t even realise what had happened, until he felt the warm sensation of blood dripping down his shoulder, and looked up to see the perfect hole perforating the side of the van.

“Shit!” yelled Peggy, once she realised what was happening, leaning to help Loki put pressure on his shoulder.

“Go! I’m fine, just go after him”, Loki told her, it might’ve looked bad, but the benefit of a laser beam was that at least it was clean, no bullet to fish out. He knew that he’d be fine, and sure enough, he heard two quick and neat gunshots fire almost immediately after Peggy had gone outside. Wasting no time getting back to drive them to safety.

XXX

Loki was very careful not to let the SSR doctors get too close, letting them stitch him up and then getting himself and the uninjured Carter back on a plane to Europe as quickly as possible. It hurt like a bitch, but he knew if he complained they’d want to keep him out of the field to run tests, and that could end very badly. Besides, any pain meds they could’ve given him were useless against his alien metabolism, and more importantly he’d promised Bucky he’d be back by Christmas and he intended to keep that promise.

Although the day was almost over by the time they landed, and Loki was exhausted, he knew he needed to see him, he only went to his room to drop his bags off. That was after seeing Carter sneak down the other hallway to the Captain’s room. However, as soon as he’d opened the door a patiently waiting Bucky had already thrown his arms around his waist.

“What are - What are you doing here”, was all that Loki could get out as he dropped his duffel in shock.

“They said you were coming back today, snuck in after everyone was asleep”, he said, turning his attention to Loki’s lips, a quick series of soft kisses pressing against them. “Merry Christmas by the way”. Bucky slipped his hands under Loki’s coat, lips still pressed against his, skilfully untucking his shirt and running his hands across the bare skin underneath. It was only when he knocked the coat off his shoulders that Loki’s injury became apparent. Practically wincing in time with the thud of the heavy wool jacket hitting the floor. Bucky shot back.

“Oh my God are you hurt?”. The truth was that Loki had felt his stitches rip slightly as the plane had landed less than gracefully, but he was so tired, all he wanted to do was kiss his boyfriend happy holidays and go to bed. “Jesus, you’re bleeding”.

“It’s nothing, there are clean bandages in that drawer”. Bucky sprinted across the small room, fishing out the items in record time, whilst Loki stripped his bloodstained shirt off. Before he could protest, Bucky was wrapping the wound up and guiding him into a clean shirt.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked, stroking his hand through Loki’s increasingly long hair.

“I’m fine, really”, it was a half lie, what he needed was painkillers, but he didn’t suppose there was an Asgardian healer knocking around anywhere nearby, so it was a futile wish, “Anyway, you need your present”.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Fine, but I get to go first”, and he pulled a small black box from his pocket. Loki smiled like a giddy child, he was a vain man and little excited him more than being treated. He pulled off the lid, revealing the contents as a beautiful bronze pocket watch, the casing something so ornate he hadn’t owned anything quite like it since arriving on Earth.

“Bucky”, he said, almost speechless, “Where did you even”.

“Hydra were using an antique shop as a safe house, and well, finders keepers, or finders gifters in this case”, Bucky explained, “Do you like it?”

“I love it, now will you please open your gift”.

“Where is it?”

“Front pocket of the duffle bag”. Bucky leant over to pull out the little, wrapped gift from the discarded bag, holding it up to Loki to make sure he had the right thing. “Well go on then”. Loki was almost as excited to see Bucky open his gift, as he had been to get his own. He watched as the red ribbon fell to the bed and Bucky tore away the paper, laughing only slightly as he saw what was inside.

“You hate that I smoke”, he said, holding up the small cigarette case Loki had finally found after hours of traversing the streets of D.C.

“Yes, well if you’re going to partake in such a bad habit, you may as well do it with some class”. Bucky didn’t stay long that night, a few kisses were enough for the battle-weary Loki. Promising that once the war was over they’d get to have a real Christmas together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some (belated) Christmas fluff whilst you can, because it's only angst from here, but I promise they'll be a happy ending!


	18. Tonights the Night

_ January 8th, 1945 _

_ Dear Mom,  _

_ I know it’s been a while, things got a little wild over here. _

“Shit”, he cursed, throwing the beginnings of the letter to the other side of Loki’s room, a small pile collecting in a corner.

“The least you could do is aim for the trash can”, Loki said jokingly, slotting his neck over Bucky’s shoulder to see what was making him so irritated. 

“If I say things are wild, then all she’s gonna talk about in her next letter is how worried she is about me! She’s got enough on her plate me bein’ over here in the first place!”

“Surely she’ll be more worried if you don’t write at all?” It was sound reasoning, but what was he supposed to do? Tell his mother that he was laying in bed with his boyfriend? It was unlikely. In other words, all the good stuff in his life was categorically off the table. “Anyway, Mother Barnes might have to wait. That is unless you want to get left behind”. 

Bucky looked up at the clock, “Shit!” he yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me?” The Commandos were meant to be following some lead on Zola the day after next, so were being given the night off in the local town to decompress before the mission. “Are you gonna be here when I get back?” he asked, scooping his jacket up from the ground.

“I don’t think so”, said Loki, “The meetings at eleven so they want us in London for the morning”. Him and Peggy had a briefing with British intelligence which under no circumstances could be moved. At least according to Phillips. 

“Okay, I’ll see you when I get back then, love you”. He lent down for a kiss goodbye before walking to the door.

“Love you too”, said Loki, expecting to see Bucky dash from view, but he forced himself to stop halfway through the door. He’d promised he’d talk about it, and if not then it’d be days before he could do it. Who knows, he might’ve lost his bottle by then. “Is everything okay?” Loki asked.

“Yeah”, he said, abandoning his position and crouching back down next to the bed, “It’s just...Steve asked me to move in with him”.

“What?”

“After the war, Phillips is thinking about posting him to London so they can mop up Hydra once the main show’s over”.

“That’s awfully optimistic”.

“I know, but he wants it to be like old times, me, him, an apartment together. Hopefully a little nicer than our old one but still”. He knew that he was rambling, but he was just trying to get everything out without it sounding too weird. 

“Do you want to live with Steve?” The little fractures in Loki’s voice almost broke Bucky in two.

“No! That’s what I’m trying to say. I wanna live with you, I wanna have a life with you, but…”

“But what?” asked Loki.

“I can’t just cut Steve out ya’ know. He’s always been there, through everything, he’s family, and I want him to be part of my life...all of it”, Bucky only hoped Loki was getting what he was trying to say, “I wanna tell him, about me, about us”. He could see the way Loki’s eyes shifted into the troubled waters, they both knew that his reluctance to come clean to Steve was a delicate issue.   

“You mean you want to theoretically tell him, or you want to actually tell him?”

“For real, tell him”, Bucky could no longer hold back his smile, but Loki’s face only stayed firm. “What’s wrong, I thought you’d be happy”.

“I am”, Loki assured him, “But you need to be certain, because if it goes wrong...you can’t take it back”. Of course he was right, and it terrified him. Steve could lose it completely, tell Phillips, have him discharged. He wasn’t just putting his future at stake, but Loki’s too.

“I know”, it was a bitter thing to admit, “But, I can’t lie anymore. It was different hiding one night stands and guys that I cared about a lot less than I shoulda’ done. You though, you’re it, and it’s like there’s this wall separating you from the rest of my life. And I know we can’t have it all, but maybe we can have Steve”, God he hoped that made sense, “Even if it’s a risk, I gotta take it, and if it makes you feel better, I’m not gonna say anything about you until I know he’s not gonna do anything bad”.

“Okay”, he said, “Just, promise me you won’t force yourself to do it if you feel like backing out”.

“I promise. I’ll see you soon okay”.

“I love you, I just want you to be happy”. Bucky smiled, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky.

XXX

Jesus, Dum Dum was a bad driver, somehow managing to hit every pothole between them and the club.

“You think you could leave us with some tires to get home on?” asked Bucky leaning in from the back of the jeep, the rest of the howling commandos crammed in the back with Steve and Dum Dum up front. 

“The more important question is, where’d Captain America over here tell Agent Carter we were going tonight?” Dugan’s question causing a cheer from the other men and a chuckle from Bucky. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie”, said Steve, shaking his head. 

“Bet you didn’t tell the truth either”, yelled Monty from the back seat. Dum Dum had found out from a local French soldier that the club in town was hosting a touring group of Burlesque dancers and had excitedly proclaimed that as their destination for the night.

“Do we have to go to this thing?” asked Steve, almost begging not to have to sit through an hour of lewd dancing. Looking about as excited as Bucky felt.

“Cap, let me explain something to you”, said Dum Dum, releasing one hand from the wheel to grab Steve by the shoulders, worsening the ride again, “What people don’t know, can’t hurt them”. Steve was promptly overruled by the rest of the group. Arguing that, unlike him, they didn’t have a beautiful SSR agent waiting for them when they got back and that they had to get their kicks where they could. Which just made poor Stevie blush even more than he had been.

Of course, a night watching barely clothed women prance around on stage wasn’t exactly Bucky’s idea of a great night out either, but he’d sat through enough of them since joining the army to fake his way through. Plus, he had a much different agenda for the evening. 

The show wasn’t bad, all things considered. They usually tended to have fairly decent music so Bucky always just tried to concentrate on that. Steve was as embarrassed as you’d expect. Constantly blushing and averting his eyes whenever one of the girls revealed anything remotely scandalous. Although, Bucky reckoned the rest of the commandos weren’t impressed with the relatively short length of the performance.

“The posters said an hour”, Gabe reminded them, “I don’t know what y’all were expecting”. There were a few grumbles from Dum Dum and Jim, but Bucky couldn’t help but laugh a little at their disappointment.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?” They all shook their heads as Bucky got up to go to the bar. 

“Hey can I get a beer please?” he asked the barmaid, still smiling in amusement. Knowing full well that whilst the nights display was it for most of the men, as soon as they were back from Austria he’d get to have mind-blowing sex with the man of his dreams. 

He lent back on the bar whilst he waited for his drink. A few of the girls from the show had stayed for a drink as well. Bucky caught one of them being chatted up by what look liked an American soldier, obviously uncomfortable, shaking her head and smiling politely as he moved closer and closer to her. 

“Hey!” Bucky shouted leaving his resting spot, “I think the lady wants to be left alone”.

“And what would you know about it?” Said the soldier, his face turned towards him, but his arm still hovered over the girls head, trapping her between him and the wall. 

“Just an observation”.

“Well why don’t you observe somewhere else”. Bucky might have done, resigning himself to keeping an eye on her from across the room. The last thing he wanted was to cause a fight. Especially not with another soldier. Especially not with Steve watching, ready to pounce. A beating from Captain America probably wasn’t good publicity. He just had to put his hands on her though, gripping her thigh with a look in his eyes that made him seem more wild animal than man. Instinct took over and he threw the first punch. The creep landing square on the floor. He looked like he was about to get up and fight back, but the commotion had alerted his friends to what was going on, and as soon as he’d realised he was outnumbered by Captain America he had almost sprinted for the door. 

“The hell was that about?” asked Steve.

“Nothing, just some creep”, he said, immediately turning his attention back to the girl, “You okay?”

She nodded, “Thank you, sorry for the trouble”.

“Don’t worry about it”, he told her, “Shout if he comes back okay”. The girl smiled, but it didn’t look like she was sticking around either, and Bucky couldn’t blame her. When he finally got back to the bar, his beer was waiting for him. 

“Thanks”, he told the barmaid.

“That was very brave”, she said, her french accent bouncing from word to word. 

“It was nothing M’am, just sorry for the disturbance”.

“Don’t be sorry, I should be thanking you, getting rid of men like that from my bar Private…”

“Sergeant”, he corrected, “Sergeant Barnes”.

“Michelle. If you don’t mind me saying, you look so young for a Sergeant”.

“That’d be because, Bucky over here is the brains of the operation, and he’s gotta pretty face to go with it”, said Dum Dum, coming up behind him and clapping a firm hand on his back, “Tell me Miss, what time do you finish work?”

“About fifteen minutes”.

“Well then, how’d you like to join us for a drink? I’m sure Bucky here’d be thrilled”, he said, his grip on Bucky getting tighter and tighter. 

“That sounds wonderful”. 

“You don’t have too”, Bucky protested.

“But maybe I want too”. He could hear the rest of the commandos laugh from behind him, continuing as he rejoined the table. He would’ve put up more of a fight, but he knew how these things went. She’d come over and talk, maybe flirt a little with him, he’d do his best not to reciprocate and then they’d both go home without each other. He just had to get Steve alone for a few minutes so they could talk. And at first, everything went as he predicted. Michelle came over to sit with them, she tried to flirt a litte, and he awkwardly laughed until he needed to go to the bathroom.

“I’ll be back in a minute guys”. What he hadn’t been expecting was Michelle waiting for him when he got out. There was no denying she was beautiful, thick brown hair, blue eyes, a figure to rival the dancers, and the dark broken bit of him wished that he cared. He didn’t though, and he never would.

“Hi”, he said trying to walk around her, but she clearly wasn’t having any of it.

“You know I can’t figure you out Sergeant Barnes”, she said, “Most American soldiers, they come in here, flirt, buy me a drink, praying that I’ll want to go upstairs with them. But you, you can barely look at me without looking like a scared puppy”.

“Well I’m not most men”. Maybe it had come off as more flirtatious than he’d intended, because a second later she was grabbing him by the shirt and leaning up to kiss him. Their lips smacking together before Bucky had a chance to do anything. For a second he wanted to be sick. He felt like that confused kid forcing himself to make out with girls behind the dance hall, letting them run their hands down his pants and through his hair. It only took him a second or two to push her away, but it didn’t stop the guilt filling his stomach. Clearly Michelle wasn’t use to rejection, and by the looks of it his friends didn’t get it either. Their confused and vacant faces staring at him, having seen the whole spectacle go down. 

“I’m sorry”, he said, his breaths becoming laboured and short, “I’m sorry, I, um, I have to go”. He bolted, letting the door slam behind him, marching from the bar towards the woods surrounding the town. 

“Bucky!” Steve shouted after him, “Bucky!”. He could hear his footsteps quicken and he knew there was no use trying to outrun him. “Hey!” he said, grabbing hold of him by the arm, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine”.

“Really, ‘cause you don’t look fine”, he said, “The hell was that in there? Since when do you turn down a girl like that?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about”, Bucky almost laughed. He thought he was ready, he was ready, he just didn’t know how to say it.

“I know we don’t keep secrets from each other”. He definitely laughed at that one.

“What if i’d been lying?”

“What lying? Lying about what?” Steve’s confusion wasn’t unfounded, they’d shared everything their whole lives, there wasn’t anything Bucky didn’t know about Steve, which was what made it all that much harder. 

“What if I felt about someone the way you felt about Peggy, what if that’s why I pushed that girl off me in there?”

“W-Why would you not tell me something like that, that’d be insane?”

“Because what if they weren’t a girl?” It was so simple, seven clean words and it was out. Bucky didn’t realise how great it’d feel to say them until he finally did, a near decades long weight being lifted from his shoulders like an albatross being vanquished. “What if I stood here and told you that I liked guys the way I’m supposed to like girls? What would you, the great Captain America, do?” Silence fell, they were far enough into the tree line that even the faint whispers from the street sounded more like radio interference than civilisation.

“Who is it?” Steve said dryly.

“I can’t tell you that. You want to rat me out to Phillips, have me sent home with a target on my back the rest of my life, fine, but I’m not gonna let you hurt him. This was my risk, no one else's”.

“Jesus, Buck”. He could feel his heartbeat start to race as he watched Steve pace back and forth.

“I’m in love, Steve, me. Who’d a thought”, he admitted in defeat, because that’s what it came back too, after all that time having someone worth taking a leap of faith for, “And for the first time, I actually see a life for myself where I don’t just end up alone and sad”. When Steve launched at him he was half expecting to be thrown to the ground. Instead he pulled him into the tightest hug they’d ever shared. Bucky could hardly breath, but he didn’t mind much, because Steve was okay with it, and that’s all that mattered.

Although, there were some tough pauses before either of them spoke again, “So, who’s this guy, you, you know”, asked Steve, not really relieving the awkwardness.

“You’re really okay with this?”

Steve’s face faltered, “I’m not saying it won’t take some getting used to, but you’re my brother Bucky. Nothing you did or said or were could ever change that”. 

Bucky felt like he was about to pass out, the adrenaline starting to wear off and the booze starting to reappear. He steadied himself on a nearby tree, slumping down on one of the many fallen logs scattering the forest floor.

“So”, said Steve, perching next to him, “Can I know who it is now”.

“Loki”.

“Loki?” Steve almost accused, “Agent Serrure? Peggy’s friend?”

“Yes, Loki”, he said, a little offended, “Jesus, if only Peggy’d had this hard a time believing it”.

“Wait, Peggy knows? Since when?” Asked Steve, who must have been at least a little bothered that his best friend would let someone else, his girlfriend of all people, in on the secret before him.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, I was strapped to a table in Austria when she found out, had nothing to do with me”.

There was silence again, and for a flash Bucky thought it was over, he’d done it. He was finally free. Steve just had to ask one more question.

“Wait a minute”, said Steve, furrowing his eyebrows into a hunch, “That’d have to mean...How long has this been going on?”

Bucky bit his lip, realising what was about to happen, “Since before the war”.

“Three years!” Steve leapt from the log, his back moving away from him.

“Kinda”, he tried to explain, “He was in New York for a while, we got together then, and I guess we never really broke up. But I hadn’t seen him since, not until after Azzano!”

“And you never thought to tell me?” Steve asked, turning back to face him.

“It’s not as simple as that”. Of course he’d tried to tell him, he’d wanted to a million times. Begged for the day he got to come home gushing about a guy who’d caught his eye, or cry on his shoulder when it all went wrong.

“I don’t believe that. The truth might not be easy but it’s always the best way”. Bucky couldn’t help but grind his teeth, because there he was, not Steve Rogers, his best friend since childhood, but Captain America. Righteous and truthful to the very core, and he snapped under the pressure of him.

“Bullshit Rogers!” he screamed, thankful for the tree coverage and the busy street to hide his anger, “You want a truth, the truth his I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you since I was nineteen! So don’t you dare stand there with your goddamn patriotic smile and perfect girl waitin’ for ya when you get back, and pass judgement on me for the choices that I had to make to get through the fucking day! You don’t think I’d give anything to tell the truth? To just walk down the street holding my boyfriend’s hand. Go to a bar together without being treated like criminals. Bringing him home to my Mom, getting married, having kids!” It was like a wave, everything he’d ever wanted to say since he was a teenager, all coming out at once. “Only thing the truth’ll likely ever do for me is get me killed”.

Steve looked up, balling his fist and going to throw a punch, apparantly changing his mind at the last minute and smashing his hand smack dab into the middle of a tree.

“Shit!” he cried, recoiling his arm in pain, even for a super-soldier that must’ve hurt. 

“Christ Steve, are you okay?” Bucky grabbed his hand to check for injuries. It didn’t look broken, and any superficial wounds would heal quickly thanks to the serum. 

“Get off me, I’m fine”, Steve yanked his hand back, and Bucky’s fear must’ve been written all over his face. “No, I didn’t mean because”, he gave up, throwing his head back against the same tree that he’d been brawling with seconds earlier, “Sorry, it’s just, a surprise. When you told me you and Loki...Well, I guess I just assumed it was a recent thing that’s all”.

“It’s fine”.

“No, it’s not. I just get so caught up in my own way’a thinking sometimes ya know. I didn’t stop to think how hard all this must’ve been for you”, he said, clutching his throbbing hand to his chest, “I meant what I said though, there’s nothing you could do that’d make me give up on you”.

XXX

Things calmed down a little after that, Steve apologising again, too many times really. They left the others to it until closing time, instead walking around the town square to keep warm, mainly just talking. It was mostly catching Steve up on the stuff he’d missed out on all those years in the dark. Yet by the time they went home, Bucky almost felt good. Despite the yelling and the fighting, he’d achieved what he’d set out to at least. Okay, maybe Steve didn’t quite understand yet, but he was willing to try, and that might just have been enough.

 


	19. Aftermath

Perhaps the worst part about the 1940s was the abysmal state of transport. Even their planes, the height of current technology, were painfully rocky rides. To the point Loki could feel his insides being jostled about as they flew across the English Channel. His stomach was already unsettled enough by worry.

“Are you okay?” asked Peggy as they disembarked, climbing straight into the car ready to take them to their hotel, “You barely said a word on the plane”. Which, granted, was very unlike him.

“You mean apart from the fact I could feel my organs moving”. It was always worse when someone else was flying. It almost made him miss his old pilot days.

“Oh please”, replied Peggy, ever the observant one, “When has discomfort ever been able to shut you up?”

Loki rolled his eyes, she was right, once again. His flare for the dramatic made him able to complain on end about pretty much anything. Once managing to complain for the best part of an hour that ice cream made no sense as a summer treat if it was just going to melt all over you. No, Loki argued, it was much better suited to the colder months when it would stay intact and could be enjoyed to its utmost potential. At the time he’d been covered in a sticky pink goo, dripping from what was left of his strawberry ice cream cone, so his judgement might not have been perfect.

“Bucky’s going to tell Steve”, he blurted out, “If you must know”.

“Tell him what”. Loki raised a single eyebrow, not wanting to give the driver any unnecessary suspicions. “Ah, I see”, she said, “You’re not worried are you?”

“Just because you two are something of an item, doesn’t mean he shares your tolerances Agent Carter”, a stark reminder that made Peggy just as uncomfortable as Loki, and was the only annoyance that beat the transportation issues when he wasn’t distracted by it.

“Steve would never do anything to hurt Bucky”, said Carter, most likely to comfort herself. Loki knew enough about secrets to know how disruptive they could be when eventually revealed, even if it were for the best in the long run. They were like glass beams in a house made of stone, once they invariably broke they only left rubble for whoever remained to climb out of. It was scary, people get used to their familiar dynamics, this person is this, this person does that. Any threat to those structures was, well, threatening. Nobody seeks change because their life is going in the right direction. Except that’s exactly what Bucky was doing, because unlike most he had two truths to contend with. Ones that would never manage to overlap completely, and adding to one always meant at least disrupting the other.

Loki cleared his throat to break the silence, “Well, for all our sakes we better hope so”, because Bucky didn’t live alone, if that glass broke in the wrong place he might not be the only one buried by it. There was too much at stake for things to go wrong. Hydra crumbled more and more each day, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the tesseract by the minute. It was enough to imagine the smug grin he’d get to shine at Thanos when he realised he’d thwarted his plan. That he, the second Prince of a dead planet had beaten the Mad Titan, the monster feared by half the universe. If Phillips found out about him and Bucky all that would be taken away from him. He’d been working on a tracking spell for the tesseract for months, but the SSR had more information from confiscated HYDRA weaponry than he could ever hope to match on his own. However, even if he could’ve told Bucky any of that he wouldn’t have done, at least he hoped not. They both had demons to slay, and that secret was Bucky’s.

XXX

It hadn’t taken much for conversation to dry up after that. They were both exhausted, only making through the briefing with sheer willpower. Which was as dull as Loki had predicted. Nothing much more than swapping files and explaining mission reports. Assuring MI6 that Hydra was being well taken care of by the SSR. When they finally made it back to the hotel, Loki collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Happy to be sleeping on a mattress that was thicker than the bedframe. He was grateful, together it was enough to let him drift off without worrying about whether Bucky was going to have been discharged by the time he got back.

When he woke around dinner time, he cursed Phillips for making them travel overnight, his sleep schedule was destroyed and he’d most definitely be awake until at least the early hours of the morning. He still needed to eat though. So, he reluctantly crawled out from underneath the sheets, got changed and met Peggy for something to eat in the hotel restaurant. Just going through the motions. It was strange how war made the everyday seem irregular. How, he was warm, and safe, enjoying the most palatable meal he’d had in months, but somehow it felt off. The familiar echoes of gunfire in the distance, and loud cheers from the bunks were absent. He turned at the slightest of sounds, his mind trained to think it was something more than it was. It made him feel like he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop all night, and when it did it was worse than he could’ve ever predicted.

Technically the night was over, he’d managed to subdue his body into a restless sleep for a little while around two in the morning, but he’d been awake for hours when he heard knocking. He glanced over to the clock, thinking he might have missed that it was time for lunch. However, it was hardly gone half ten. The knocking started again, harder this time, more panicked, more persistent.

“Just a minute”, he called, pulling on a shirt, expecting a stranger to be waiting behind the door for him. “Carter?” he said, surprised to see his friend instead of housekeeping or a bellboy, “What are doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course”. He moved out of the way to let Peggy enter, her face seemed heavy, devoid of its usual calm elegance, “Is everything okay?”.

“Loki I…” she paused, dropping her head before meeting his eyes, “It’s Bucky, Phillips just called”.

Shit, had things really gone that badly with Steve, bad enough that Phillips had felt the need to call Peggy to explain, “What happened, did he find out?”

“It’s not that. I haven’t spoken to Steve yet”, she told him, “They found the train carrying Zola, but there were weapons on board”, she paused again to collect herself, forcing what looked like tears back from her eyes, “Loki I’m so sorry”. Four words, it was all she had to say, all she needed to say. There was no other reason to start like that, no other reason to pick an apology over a reassurance.  

“No”, he said, “No, he can’t...Tell me he’s okay, Carter, tell me that he’s okay!”

“He fell, from the train, during the fight”. She stared, mouth agape, watching as Loki’s face fell from disbelief into anguish.

“No, we had a plan, get through the war, stop Hydra, there was a plan!” he cried, falling into Carter’s open arms as she tried to comfort him. How Odin would have wept at the state of him, knees grazing the cheap hotel carpet, sobbing into a mortals arms over a mortal’s death. He couldn’t say how long that lasted for. He must’ve passed out eventually because the next thing he knew he was waking up in bed, Carter brushing strands of hair from his tear stained face.

“Welcome back”, she said, all of her softness having returned, “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine”. If fine was Loki’s specialty then pain was his oldest friend. Everything was going so right for a change it was only a matter of time before old luck resurfaced.

Carter stayed for a while, making him some tea that was left to go cold, folding a clean change of clothes at the end of the bed. But once she’d gone he knew what he had to do, and in the same way he’d picked himself up of the floor of a dirty Brooklyn back alley, what seemed like a lifetime ago, he forced his feet onto the ground and took two steps forward. Rage was an excellent motivator. Sad grief consumed you, freezing you in time. Tears turning into seconds, minutes and hours. Only good in short bursts to stop the lid from exploding. Anger on the other hand, with practice, could be channelled, made use of. Loki decided that if Bucky had to die then it may as well be for something.

XXX

Howard stopped by, apparently someone, presumably Peggy, had painted the whole picture for him because Loki didn’t think he’d ever seen him offer to help anyone, ever. Let alone sit and play babysitting duty to make sure Loki actually ate something.

“Apparently Steve’s held up in that Pub we came to after the rescue thing”, said Howard, having more the right idea with two glasses of whiskey than Carter had had with the tea, “That’s where Peg’s been, she called me from a payphone, whole place got bombed out in the Blitz, all but about to collapse on him and he still won’t leave”. He handed over both glasses to Loki, who knocked them back one after another. They wouldn’t do much, the human stuff never did, but it was better than nothing. Even Howard, who could drink for days and still give lectures about mechanical engineering, squinted at Loki’s display of tolerance, “Anyway, she’s wondering if you could go down, maybe talk to him, if you’re up to it”. He wasn’t, but then again clandestine boyfriend’s of dead servicemen don’t get compassionate leave, and he had to face Steve sooner or later.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight in front of him when he arrived. Not even a shell left for the ghost of the buildings former self to inhabit. Sure enough he could see Peggy and Steve sat at one of the tables through the gaps in the rubble, the former coming out as soon as she saw him.

“He’s not said much”, she told him, “Except to ask for more bottles of hard liquor”.

“How many?” asked Loki, worried as to what state Steve might be in.

“Four, and counting, not that the serum’s letting it do much of anything”.

“Shit”.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, “I have to get back, call Phillips, tell him Steve’s needs some time”.

“It’s fine”, he replied with his best quick grin in tow.  

“You know I could ask for you too”.

“No you can’t”.

“Loki....”

“It is what it is”, he said, “No point dwelling on those particular facts. Trust me, this isn’t my first time to the show”.

Somehow it was colder inside the ruins than it was in the open air, as if all the grief were sapping the heat away.

“You know, punishing yourself with cheap liquor with no happy ending isn’t going to change what happened”, he said, replacing Carter in the seat next to him.

“Bet this isn’t how you saw our next conversation going”, said Steve, hurling the glass and what was left of his drink at the wall.

“Honestly, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead”. Which he hadn’t, he and Steve were friends of course, that much time spent in close quarters it was impossible to not develop some kind of relationship. However they definitely leaned closer to acquaintances than they did away from it. Which Loki was fairly sure was how Bucky liked it, at least when he’d been trying so desperately to keep his worlds as separate as he could.

“I’m sorry”.

“Captain, if you’re about to carry on in some self-deprecating frenzy then don’t. Barnes was many things, naive wasn’t one of them”.

“That’s not what I mean, Peggy’s right there’s no way I could have caught him from that railing”, he said, his eyes trailing off into an unknown distance.

“What is it then?”

“I could’ve sent him home. One word to Phillips after what he told me, he’d have been on the first flight home”.

“And he would’ve hated you for the rest of his ruined life”, reminded Loki.

“Well then there has to be a reason, if not me, something!”

“That isn’t the game we play”, he said, “The Universe has its own equilibrium, the only path at the end of trying to play with that because you don't like the answers is madness”.

“How the hell are you offering me advice?” asked Steve, “I mean, shouldn’t you be in pieces, I can barely think, you were in love with him? He said you’d been through it but…”

Loki sighed, he wanted to break down, and maybe he would once it was all over. Instead he said, “Because I have a job to do, and I can’t afford to not do it well”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extended angst guys! This chapter honestly wasn't meant to be long (we've all seen the first avenger after all) but the sadness started coming and it wound up a little longer!
> 
> (I'm also really tired so if there are any glaring grammar mistakes please let me know)


	20. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and not so sweet I'm afraid!

The falling was the worst of it. People don’t think about that, sure the crushed bones hurt, and the metallic taste of blood that clung to the back of his throat made what was left of his insides want to hurl, but the falling. Just seconds where the only forward action was to take one last look and hope it was pretty on the other side, and then pray that God was kind to the people you were leaving. Yet, as he hit the icy water beneath him, he realised his eyes were still open, the currents pulling him swiftly downstream. He felt his left arm snag on something, the pain making him scream before the freezing temperatures turned his limp body numb to everything around him.

Some cursed instinct pulled him from the water, flashes of a man in a Soviet uniform dragging him across the snow. However, he’d been around enough spies to know that outside appearances don’t mean anything. No point in entertaining the idea he’d be saved. Afterall, Hydra had heads everywhere, and they always seemed to find him.

At least after Azzano there’d been hope, no matter how slim, but no one was coming for him a second time. He’d fallen off a mountain, as far as anyone was concerned he was dead. Whatever was laid out in front of him was it, best to accept it and make peace. Had they told Loki yet? He’d once caught him singing in the shower, it had been in some foreign language or another, he couldn’t have told you which. Although he could tell you that it was one of the softest sounds he’d ever heard. He was used to music that was heavy, bouncing through the air always trying to find its footing. That song on the other hand, had skipped like waves lulling into the beach. Loki’s embarrassment had been just as cute. For such a showman he certainly hated people seeing him when he didn’t want them to. It was strange he should’ve been worried about him, but Loki was strong enough for the both of them. He didn’t need a dead man panicking over his fate, and honestly, of all the ways his life could’ve ended, he didn’t mind it that much. For as long as he could remember he’d figured he would pass to the other side old, alone and sad. Going out happy and in love was more than he ever expected from the world. The other option was to sit, half-conscious in a cell, no arm, no prospects and be bitter at the world. It would’ve been easy, things being as they were he had enough to be bitter about. He’d given his life and his body to a country that would sooner disown, ridicule and section him than view his life as equal. In the early days he’d wondered why he’d bothered, but he wasn’t following his country when he fell, he was following Steve. Sweet little Stevie, his Stevie, who was worth more than any country or President he could’ve ever sworn allegiance to.

New York felt like a different world. That he was sad about, Brooklyn had been home, and as his life was coming to an end he was struggling to image himself strolling along its well traveled streets. He realised he wouldn’t even get to be buried there. Would they have a funeral? They must do. You’d think it’d be silly not to have some sort of goodbye, even an empty one. The service would be nice. His Ma’d cry, and Bex would say a few kind words. Connie was probably gonna curse him out for getting himself killed, but there wasn’t much he could do about that on his end. There were soldiers who got less, and for that he was grateful for everything, good and bad.

Hydra’s techniques were old hat, they’d draw his blood, test it, put him in some contraption or another that made his entire body feel like it was on fire. Not much in the way of variety. By the time they thought to torture him for information his brain was already pretty much fried from all the drugs. It hurt, maybe even more so than the first time, but his captors were no Zola. Whose previous games were, sickeningly, likely the only reason he survived the fall. However, seeing that Zola was nowhere to be found, he at least had the comfort of knowing he was behind bars.

The scientists still working on him quickly said goodbye to what remained of his left arm, all the way down to the shoulder, burning metal plates into the wounds to seal them back up. Model One of the replacement, as they liked to call it, was garbage. The weight of the thing made it impossible for him to do anything other than clench his fist a few inches off the table. However, they soon started trying to remedy the teething problems. Test, after test, after test. To them he was nothing more than a science project, there to be unmade and put back together over and over and over. God knows how many attempts they went through before putting him on ice, at least temporarily out of his misery. Perhaps that was when he first started to fade, what else made someone a person if it wasn’t those around them? In war there was always something to grab on to, a friend, a lover, the promise of a pack of cigarettes if you made it through the next battle. Hell, he’d seen guys find the energy to keep on fighting on nothing more than meaningless dares made by men just as doomed as they were. This wasn’t war though, it was sport, and Bucky Barnes had lost.

 


	21. Remember This?

In the end there wasn’t time to grieve, as soon as Zola started to talk there was no stopping him, apparently he was happy to throw his boss under the bus to avoid whatever punishment he deserved.

“This plan is insane”, said Howard, hunched over the map, his whole face one big crease.

Steve, on the other hand, was as sure of himself as ever, “Maybe, but it’s the only one we got, and we don’t have time to come up with a better one. If Schmidt drops those bombs…”

“End of the world as we know it, we get it”, there was an air of defeat in Phillips’ voice, as if after everything he still didn’t quite believe the Captain was up for it. Loki knew that he was though, and for once he knew how it ended. For that reason he stayed quiet most of the briefing, said nothing as Peggy and Phillips argued the finer details of the stratergy.

“It’s too risky”, one would say.

“But so are all the other options”, the other’d reply. They all went back and forth for a few hours until the final decisions had been made. Cap would go in first, and everyone else would follow in batches.  

Once they were inside it was chaos, men disappeared into clouds of smoke as they ran by, no choice but to keep moving through the compound if they wanted to survive. Once Schmidt had decided to abandon his soldiers it didn’t take long for the base to fall. Peggy and Phillips came running back into the main control deck a few minutes later.

“Steve’s on the plane”, shouted Peggy, “With Schmidt”, she was out of breath, and Loki couldn’t tell whether it was from the running or the worry. Either way, himself and Mortia scrambled to try and figure out the comms system that linked them to the Valkyrie.

“What do we do know?” asked Peggy

“We wait”, said Jim, and anxious silence spreading through everyone, that even the Colonel didn’t seem immune to.

“Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?” The connection was quiet and rough, but Loki could’ve sworn the Captain’s voice filled the entire room twice over.

Jim was the first to reach for the mic, “Captain Rogers, what is your…” But Peggy took no time in taking his place.

“Steve, is that you? Are you alright?”

“Peggy! Schmidt’s dead”

“What about the plane?”

“That’s a little bit tougher to explain”.

“Give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site”

“There’s not going to be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down”. Loki heard Phillips curse under his breath, whether he liked it or not he clearly had a soft spot for America’s favourite Captain.

“I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do”, Peggy pleaded, shooting a hopeful glance back at Loki, but he just shook his head. If, and it was a big if, he somehow managed to guide Steve to a safe landing spot before he blew up half of the Eastern seaboard, the SSR would have first dibs on the Tesseract. The only way he was ever getting his hands on it was if Steve crashed that plane.

“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York”, he paused, and Loki knew what came next, “I gotta put her in the water”.

Peggy’s face fell, as if it had been shifted out of place, “Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out”

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice. Peggy?”

“I’m here”.

“ I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance”.

“Alright. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club”, tears started to well from the corners of her eyes. He thought about going over, offering a soft reassurance, but this was there moment, in every timeline.

“You got it”.

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

“You know, I still don’t know how to dance”

“I’ll show you how. Just be there”

“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your…” Static echoed from the mic and the room dropped.

“Steve? Steve? Steve?”

XXX

The War ended soon enough. A good thing too, Howard was getting closer and closer to tracing the Tesseract’s energy signature by the second, and Loki needed to act before his window of opportunity closed. Unfortunately, there was no way he’d have been able to get a plane out into the Arctic circle during the war, and he’d still technically been on active duty cleaning up Hydra. The Captain dying, or going missing as Howard kept insisting they all keep saying, didn’t change any of that.

“What do you think you’ll do now?” asked Peggy. They were about to make a start clearing out the SSR headquarters, the whole operation needed to be States side in a few weeks. The British were being more than a bit antsy about having a foreign intelligence agency on their soil seeing as the war in Europe was over.

“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”

“Perhaps”.

“Take some leave I suppose”, he’d already booked it, and he’d manage to find a plane that could get him to where he thought the Tesseract was.

“Of course, you deserve it, after everything. Do you think you’ll go back to New York”. He knew what she was asking. They’d put up a headstone for Bucky at his parents church. Nothing much, but they’d had a service. Peggy had gone on behalf of the SSR, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to it.

“Probably”, he said, but he didn’t know if he would.

“When does your leave start?”

“Tomorrow”.

“Tomorrow?” Said Peggy, “And you didn’t think to say?”

“Sorry”. He’d expected her to get mad at him for keeping her in the dark, not launch into a full barrelled hug.

“Just promise me you’ll look after yourself”.

“I promise”, he wasn’t sure whether tracking down the Tesseract really counted as looking after himself, but he said it all the same.

XXX

The plane he’d found wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was as good as he was going to get, and with a little bit of luck was enough to get him to and from the arctic. He was flying low to avoid any radar detection, which wasn’t exactly helping matters turbulence wise. Neither was the spell he’d devised. The newly enchanted compass rather erratically leading him to its desired object.

The patch of ice he landed on seemed stable enough, but he was sure to strengthen it up a little. At least being Jotun had some benefits, however uneasy it made his stomach to see the blue spread across his arms. All he had to do was lock onto the Tesseract’s energy signal and lift it from the waves, but he hit a snag, quite literally. He felt his foot catch on something buried beneath the snow. When he bent down to unearth it he couldn’t believe what it was at first. It looked like a piece of the Valkyrie. The metal was clearly reinforced like a Hydra weapon, and it had all the markings of crash debris. He placed his hand onto the ice, letting his magic run deep underwater, until it caught something, something that definitely wasn’t the seabed. His heritage really was coming in handy. Carefully he let ice form underneath the mass, slowly lifting it up to what he then realised was the slightly thinner section of ground, it burst through, the destroyed carcass of Hydra’s most advanced ship lulling on the newly formed ledge.

It was impossible? Had his calculations been wrong? The Tesseract was found nowhere near the Valkyrie. It’s the whole reason it had taken them seventy years to find him.

Hesitantly, he moved closer, squeezing through a crack in the wreckage. Strangely, the Captain had moved from his seat, which meant he must have survived the initial crash. He made his way over, but even with the water draining out it was too late, he was frozen in time. The only thing keeping him on the edge of life being the serum. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Tesseract floating in a deeper part of the ship, and he had to swim over just to grab hold of it, and suddenly everything made sense. Of course, the Tesseract had shown him things before, but that time it felt different, as if that vision was meant for precisely him. They were always flashes, never clear pictures, and this time it was everything. Everything that would happen if he left the Tesseract for Howard to find. It was beautiful, all Steve had ever talked about wanting, the wife, the family, he’d spend the rest of his life saving the day like he’d always dreamed. That’s when it turned. Steve waking up didn’t just change his life, it changed everyones. He was old and grey before a team of Superheros was even a twinkle in Fury’s eye. Howard’s life was changed and so so was his son’s. No Captain America, no Iron Man, no Avengers, no way to beat Thanos.

There it was, the realisation hit him in a wave that sent him stumbling back through the aircrafts bones. It had never been about him changing time, it was about keeping it as it needed to be. He scooped up the Tesseract, hoping that it had nothing else to show him, and took one last walk towards the Captain.

“I’m sorry friend”, he meant it, but as far as history was concerned he was never there. He reached out his hand and traced the lines across his frozen temple, pulling the memories of himself and replacing them with blank space, “I truly am”. As far as Steve was ever to be concerned the first time they’d met was on a street in Stuttgart.

Looking back, he left Steve to his fate, sinking the scattered remains back beneath the ice. After he was back in the air and heading towards Europe he landed once again and threw the Tesseract into the Sea for Stark to rediscover alone. Then came the tricky part. Erasing himself completley. He started with the paper records, every mission report with his name on it, every picture with his face contained within its walls was destroyed or doctored. Only then did he deal with the people. Phillips first, then the commandoes and anyone else from his SSR days, including Stark. Peggy was last to go, she was the hardest, he couldn’t bring himself to do it whilst she was awake, watching as he faded from her mind. By the time he was done no one of note would remember him, he’d be a ghost story, a “remember that guy?” whose name and face noone would ever manage to place. Loki thought he could live with that, however bad things might’ve gotten after his ‘death’ back in the future, he trusted that the Tesseracts visions would hold true. That’s what he told to Bucky’s empty grave anyway. Bitter sweet in the end, at least he would remember him.

**END OF PART 1**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last instalment before Endgame, sorry! The next few chapters are planned out, but I thought I'd end it here on at least a sort of light note (I kinda know what's gonna happen next and I'll say that it's definitely getting worse before it gets better). However, I am going to try and write some slightly fluffier slice of life fics set in this universe whilst the main story is on hiatus, so watch out for those! Although they won't be as regular as weekly updates so please be patient with me!
> 
> But seriously, if you've read all of this then thank you, this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I seriously can't wait to write more once A4 comes out.


	22. Dead Man's Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ENDGAME SPOILER WARNING*
> 
> I"M BACK! There are no Endgame spoilers in this chapter, but there will be in the next one, so read accordingly. Honestly, I'm super happy to be back writing this again, chapters should be posted about once a week but I don't have as many pre-written as I did when I started posting part 1 so it might get a little erratic at some point!

After saying a final goodbye to Bucky he decided to simply reinvent himself, there was a practical symphony of less than legitimate work available to keep himself occupied after the war. He was a free agent, for the first time in his life he answered to no one, and as far as he was concerned he’d played his part and was happy to cause some relatively harmless mischief. No one could blame him for wanting a little bit of time to himself to have some fun and relaxation after everything he’d been through, he’d earned enough goodness tokens to go on a little spending spree until he caught up with himself in the future. Which was another problem that he’d have to deal with altogether, his past would quickly come round again and it didn’t exactly paint him in a pleasant light, so he made a mental note to make sure he found a way off planet by the time 2012 came by.

Not that he would’ve have called himself happy, not at all, but for twenty years he woke up every morning and managed a smile as he poured his daily cup of coffee, a worryingly human ritual that he’d managed to pick up. Of course, it had all come crashing down. He was doing a job in Buenos Aires, an old Nazi who’d apparently escaped with a substantial collection of family jewels, more than enough to keep him comfortable in his exile. A guy he’d made contacts with at the CIA had given him a tip that he was about to be extradited back to Europe, and that the he wouldn’t be a free man long enough to worry about some petty rubies and pearls. Obviously this had all been on the condition that he split a portion of the profit with his informant. It had all gone smoothly, the man, whilst evil, was becoming senile with old age. He may as well have been stealing candy from a baby, it was everything else he found that he suspected had gotten him in trouble. Arms shipments, swathes of them, all marked HYDRA, he’d heard whispers of them over the last two decades, but nothing on the scale that lay before him them. Who knew how extensive their South American network was. Afterwards he made a quick exit with his loot, selling everything for probably less than they were worth just to be shot of them, and taking it upon himself to come up with another new identity.

Now, Loki was good at disappearing, it was arguably what he was best at, but HYDRA had heads everywhere and he was still having some performance issues visa vi his shapeshifting, so it took them all of two months to find him. He’d been sat eating dinner in his motel room when the first bullet shattered the cheap wooden door to pieces, barely giving him enough time to flee through the bathroom window. However, his assailant was as persistent as they always were, eventually cornering him in a back alley. He’d had never seen a human move like that, outside of maybe the Captain, and he was suspicious as to what HYDRA might have been up to since the end of the war. It didn’t take him long to find out either, hand to hand combat had never been Loki’s strongest area, so as soon as he was able to still the fight for long enough he reached up for his temple for an upper hand. All he’d meant to do was confuse his rabid attacker, but everything froze as quickly as it’d begun. Mind reading isn’t at all like what people think it is, you can’t just translate someones surface level thoughts to your own head, it’s more like rooting around a filing cabinet looking for anything relevant, the more recognisable something is the more likely you are to find it. Well what Loki found was himself, again and again and again. It was only when he pulled away that he was able to comprehend what it all meant.

“Bucky?” he mumbled, but the man stayed silent, using his momentary weakness to gain back his advantage. Suddenly, Loki felt something sharp and hot jab into his side. His survival instincts must have kicked in because the raw blast of energy he released was bigger than anything he’d been able to muster since Ragnarok. The assassin flew backwards, his mask falling to the ground as he was finally driven unconscious by the brick wall behind him, and Loki’s worst fear was realised.

He must’ve cried more then than he ever had, his injured body collapsing under its own weight, and he sobbed, for the first time not because of what had happened, but because of what he had to do. Of course, he could’ve hauled Bucky away, fixed whatever had been done to him, time would continue, but not his time, his time would fall into chaos, not right away but eventually. It was like he could still feel the Tesseract burning through his body, telling him exactly what he needed to do. Except this time there was no catharsis, no eureka moment, no feeling of being exactly where he was supposed to be for once in his life. No, the only thing he felt was pain. He’d put everything on the fact that however much of his life he’d given up, what he’d had with Bucky would remain intact. Dead men could tell no tales after all. He was the last thing connecting him to the life he’d been able to build for himself, and he had to destroy it.

As he cycled through the memories, storing them away, he stopped every so often, every time he got to something that was almost too good to get rid of. Of course he’d heard the name of the Winter Soldier, it was a ghost story that had drowned in enough blood to sail the world. He was a whisper in the back of a SHIELD archive, those that did live feared the laughs and the judging eyes if they spoke of what they’d been through. Being scared of an urban legend was tantamount to insanity for a spy. No wonder he’d gotten away with it for so long.

 


	23. Something Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ENDGAME SPOLIERS*
> 
> This chapter picks up just before Infinity War and sees us into well after Endgame, so you can expect major spoilers to be included from this chapter onwards.

It didn’t take Bucky long to settle into life in Wakanda, Shuri had worked wonders and he felt more and more like himself everyday. Even if that wasn’t exactly the person he’d been before. But even once most of his memories had been recovered, there was still something off, something even Shuri couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I don’t understand it”, she said quietly, and Bucky wondered whether she’d ever strung the words _don’t_ and _understand_ into a sentence before, “All I can say for certain is that whatever is preventing you from accessing these memories specifically is something different from the rest of your conditioning”.

“Okay, now I don’t understand”, said Bucky, “The only people who ever had me were HYDRA”.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s as if whatever we do, the damage is adapting”.

Bucky sighed, “It’s fine”. Shuri looked unconvinced, “I mean it, knowing that it’s something is better than just thinking it’s all in my head”. Which was true, the nagging feeling that something in his memories was off had been bugging him for weeks, and he was starting to think it was just stress or PTSD, so knowing that there was at least something other than his own mind hurting him was better than nothing. Besides, it wasn’t much, just little things that didn’t make sense, stories that felt empty or half finished, as if the de-conditioning had brought them back, but only half of the way. There was one in particular that felt wrong.

“Steve”, he said, a little suddenly, on a completely unrelated note to the discussion they’d been having about how bad the food was as a fugitive, “Do you remember when I came out to you?” It wasn’t something that they’d really had a chance to talk about, ever really, and not at all since they’d been reunited.

“Yeah”, said Steve, shifting in his seat a little, “Yeah, I remember, why?”

“Do you remember why I did it?” The whole conversation was clear in his head, the yelling, the trees, Steve hurting himself like he was still some tiny dumbass punk who didn’t know what he was doing. What he couldn’t remember was why, which was weird considering he could recall every reason he’d ever not done it like it was yesterday. He’d agonised over it for years, literally his entire adult life, so what the hell had possessed him, the night before a huge mission, to tell Steve everything?

“I don’t think you ever told me”.

“Oh”, he said, “Okay”.

“Buck-”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it”, he cut him off, going back to playing with the leftover chicken on his lunch plate.

“No”, said Steve, “I-I need to apologise, I know we’ve never really talked about it, but that night, I’m sorry for how I reacted”.

“What?” Bucky replied, confused, as far as he was concerned it had gone about as well as he’d ever hoped, “You were fine”.

“Exactly!”, he said, “You’re my best friend and you were telling me your biggest secret, I should’ve been more than fine”.

“Please, it was 1945, I was happy to not get shot”, he half joked. He appreciated the sentiment, and was more than pleased that the 21st Century had rubbed off on Steve, but he really had only been half joking. That could’ve been the worst night of his life, the fact that it wasn’t was more than enough.

“You know”, said Steve, “I used to think, about what woulda happened if I’d told Phillips, had you thrown out of the army before…” Before he could fall, before HYDRA could’ve gotten him.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t, I don’t think I could’ve lived hating you”.

“So, is there anyone-”

“No, we’re not, we’re not doing _that_ ”.

“Did I?”

“No, it’s not you”, he explained, “I’m just, I’m gay, but I’m not there yet, gonna need some time before we start talking about my dating life”.

XXX

Five years was a long time to just be gone, he hadn’t known what had happened until the weird Wizard Doctor had shown up and told them to get their asses in gear. Despite the fact that they were all still coming down from their previous head to head with Thanos. Since then, his half missing memories had been put on the back burner, there had been a lot to clean up. Time travel and then some more time travel to make sure the previous time travelling hadn’t broken a hole in the universe was well beyond Bucky’s scope. Still, he’d done whatever he could, which amounted to helping Steve prep the infinity stones for transport back to their original points in the timeline.

It was worth noting that the one rule he’d been given was to not touch the stones under any circumstances, but it was like it was calling out to him. No one else seemed to notice the difference, but to him the space stone shone just a little brighter than its counterparts. He figured it was because he had a past with it, that was until he gave in and actually touched it, barely brushing his finger against the surface. He knew that it was supposed to show visions of the future, but whatever it was showing _him_ was from _its_ past, ike it was telling him what was going on as the scene played out in his head. It was the Valkyrie - the ship not the person - he could feel the arctic water flooding the cavity, a man with dark hair waded through, apparently unbothered by the cold, things were vague after that, until the man grabbed the tesseract, much more boldly than he himself had done. From there it was like he was seeing the past and the future all at once, the cube was showing its future, but their history, the Avengers, Thanos, the final battle, what would happen if Steve was found before his time, without the world knowing what the infinity stones were truly capable of.

He must’ve passed out, because when he came to almost an hour had passed. He quickly finished casing up the stones, and ran to fetch one of Steve’s sketch pads from his room. He wasn’t an artist, not by a long shot, but he did okay and managed to get a close enough likeness to the man he’d seen in his vision. There was something else there, something else the stone had tried to tell him, but he couldn’t quite grasp it, apart from that one scene everything had been a blur. The drawing had a familiar quality to it, but not a close one, it didn’t feel like someone he knew, more like someone he’d heard of, maybe seen in a picture a few times. He was going to try and dig up some old SHIELD files, but Steve was leaving, and Bucky already had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Which was fine, it really was, he deserved to be happy after everything, hell they all did, and if the past was where he was going to find that then so be it.

If it weren’t for the dreams then he might have ignored the vision all together, with everything else that had been going on, but soon the nightmares of war were replaced by dreams of the stone and what it had shown him. He knew he’d seen that face somewhere, he knew it was a SHIELD file but it took him almost a week to find the right one. When he did he was no less confused than he had been. Loki, as in the guy who did New York, who’d worked for Thanos, who’d tried to kill the Avengers multiple times, and the Tesseract was telling him that this was the guy who’d set in motion the course to save the Universe? It made no sense, and why had it decided to tell him of all people?

XXX

“You see, I get the time off”, said Sam, “What I don’t get is why that means you have to disappear without telling anyone where you’re going”.

“There’s just something I have to do”, he explained, “And I have to do it alone”.

“You know I was a therapist right? Knowing when people aren’t telling me everything was kind of my job”.

He sighed, grinding his teeth together a little, “Okay”, he said, “You know when I was packing away the stones for Steve to take back?” Sam nodded, stepping forward into Bucky’s room. “One of them, it showed me something”.

“You mean you touched it!” Bucky’s silence spoke for itself. “Jesus, you know you’re as dumb as Steve, do either of you even know what a rule is?”

“Hey, do not lump me in with Steve, I can follow directions just fine, but it’s like it was calling to me or something”.

“And that makes it okay!”

“No”, Bucky admitted, it was stupid, he should’ve listened to everyone smarter than him who said to leave them alone, “But I need to find out if what I saw was real or just my head playing tricks on me”.

“Fine, you can go, but you need anything”.

“You’ll be the first guy I call”.

He said the rest of his goodbyes without much fanfare, just telling them that he was taking some time, taking Steve’s old motorcycle to New York.

The Sanctum was an imposing building, and Strange an equally imposing man, but he’d come too far to turn back now. He couldn’t explain it but touching the space stone had been the first time since he’d gotten back to being himself that he’d felt his blocked memories shift just the slightest of distance. Not enough that he could make any sense of them, but it was like the fog had cleared a little, and magic was about the only thing he hadn’t tried.

Explaining all of that to Strange made him feel insane, but the Doctor just looked at him like it all made perfect sense so he continued.

“Well it definitely sounds like the problem could be magical in nature”, agreed Strange, “Especially if the Wakandans can’t figure out a fix, you understand that I can’t make any promises that this will work, or that it won’t do more damage?”

“I know but, ever since I touched that stone, I can’t sleep, even more than usual, and they’re not even bad dreams, it’s just like this gnawing feeling that something’s wrong you know?” he said his piece the best he could, and it seemed to be enough to convince the Sorcerer, because next thing he knew he was semi-conscious in a chair and Strange was levitating across from him, the only movement the fluttering of his eyes behind his lids. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours before it was over and Strange slumped to the floor.

“I take it that’s not a good sign?” asked Bucky.

“No, whatever is going on in there is not compatible with my powers, I’m sorry but trying to help you would most likely just hurt you even more”.

“So what? I’m just stuck like this?”

“You said that the Vision the stone gave you was incomplete?”

“Not incomplete exactly”, he said, “More like there was part of it I couldn’t see”.

“Then there might be something you can do”.

Strange’s plans apparently had a habit of being convoluted and a pain in the ass for everyone involved. First he had to fly to London, then to Norway, and finally take a really uncomfortable bus ride to New Asgard. Before he’d left he’d used Steve’s credentials to pull the entirety of Loki’s file, there was a lot of interesting stuff that definitely hadn’t been made public knowledge, and given how much was redacted, a lot that even Captain America hadn’t been privy to. Like the fact Thor had gotten him a posthumous pardon after he’d died trying to stop Thanos from getting a stone,  and the fact that it had been the tesseract didn’t escape his attention either. Whatever was going on, the space stone was slap bang in the middle of the whole mess.

When he arrived he worried he should’ve called ahead, but Valkyrie welcomed him, apparently remembering him from the Battle.

“Any enemy of Thanos is more than welcome here”, she said, offering him a drink.

“I’m okay thanks”.

“So, what can I help you with?” He explained everything again, telling her that according to Strange the best thing would’ve been to use the Tesseract again, but seeing as how he was pretty sure nobody was going to let him go on a little jaunt through time on a hunch, that was off the table, but that the Asgardians might know a way he could relive the vision he’d already been given.

“There is a way, but I’ll warn you, mortal men tend to not fair well, you’d be doing so at your own risk”.

“I’ll do it”, he was immediate, there was no question, if there was a way to figure this thing out, he was going to do it, he had to.

XXX

The Water of Sights was…Well, in all its awe and marvel, creepy was still the first thing that came into his head as Valkyrie led him inside.

“So what is this place exactly?” he asked, getting more nervous by the second, it was as if the entire cavern was alive, like the walls could talk to him.

“In every realm there’s a reflection of the Water of Sights, it’s a way to converse with the Norns”.

“And they are?”

“In Asgardian tradition they’re overseers of destiny, able to see what no one else can, even Heimdall”.

“So like the Gods of Gods?”

“In a way”.

“This isn’t gonna be fun is it?”

“You don’t have to do this you know”, Valkyrie reminded him. It would’ve been nice, to just go back to the Avengers and start trying to rebuild his life, but when had his life ever been easy?

His metal arm was the first thing to start to twinge as he submerged himself below the pool of water and at first it was a little underwhelming, there was no grand spectacle, and no thrashes of lightning. It was quieter than that, more like drowning, a peaceful flood of a million things coming flushing back at once. The fog wasn’t lifted, it was washed away by a hurricane. He must’ve coughed up half a reservoir as Valkyrie pulled him from the water.

“Are you okay?”

“Loki”, he gasped, expelling the last drops from his lungs.

The drive back to New Asgard was all but silent, the only noise the car engine and the worried hums coming from the driver's seat. Posthumous, posthumous pardon, he just remembered the love of his life only to find out he was dead. Was this some cruel trick? Why would the Tesseract want to show him that, want him to remember that, if all it was going to lead to was pain.

“Did you know what he was?” asked Valkyrie, after she’d shown him to the room he was being put up in.

“No”, he admitted, “I thought a lotta things, spy, criminal. Alien never came to mind though”. He’d had a lot of relationships in his life, too many if he was honest, people he’d never called or snuck out on, but love? That had only ever happened once, and it was with a guy who seventy years later tried to take over the planet.

“Look”, said Valkyrie, “He did a lot of bad things, and I didn’t know him for very long, and he was a royal pain in the arse, but he was more than the things that he did here”. Bucky was grateful, especially that he hadn’t told anyone the purpose of his trip, the only other person who knew where he was was Strange, and if he asked he could just say that it didn’t work, or that Valkyrie wouldn’t let him use the Water of Sights. He didn’t need to relive this feeling anymore than he already had to.

That night he poured over Loki’s file, much more thoroughly than he had done previously. Whilst a lot of the more recent stuff was blacked out, the early stuff from New York was all there. He read everything, statements from SHIELD agents who’d interacted with him, from the Avengers, from Thor, the thing that caught his eye though was the Physical exam they’d done after he’d been captured. It had been thorough, every scar and marking was painstakingly detailed, even if the cause for all of them had been written as unknown, except for a few that Thor had maybe filled in for them. It was what wasn’t there that had captured his attention though, the scar around his neck, the only scar he’d ever seen Loki coil away from. He burst into Valkyrie's room, which given that she was Queen was probably against some kind of protocol.

“Barnes?” she said, stirring over to reach for the bedside lamp, “What the hell are you doing?”

“The file, it says Loki was killed by Thanos, on the ship before you could make it to earth?”

“Yeah, why? And why do you need to know that at three in the morning?”

“How was he killed?”

“What?”

“How did Thanos kill him?”

“He broke his neck, why does it matter?”

“This”, he said, perching at the edge of the bed to show her the file, “Is a Physical exam SHIELD did of Loki whilst he was in custody, guess they wanted identifying features in case he escaped”.

“What does a list of scars have to do with anything?”

“Because there’s one missing, when I met Loki he had a ligature mark around his entire neck, it was so bad that it left two huge scars on either side”.

“That was eighty years ago, it could’ve faded by the time he invaded New York”.

“But when I asked him how he got it, he told me that it was from a guy that he used to work for who’d tried to kill him as punishment for losing something precious to him”.

“Thanos”, the realisation lit up in Valkyrie's eyes, “He lost the Tesseract, and the mind stone”.

“Exactly!” he yelled, “The guy’s faked his death twice, is it so unreasonable to think he’d do it again?”

“But, how, how could an injury from five years ago be fresh in 1939?”

“Time travel”, it was such a simple explanation, well simple for them, “We know it exists, it saved the universe less than six months ago?” Valkyrie launched from the bed, diving for the screen of monitors on the other side of the room. “What is it?” he asked, following closely behind.

“Thanos let half the Asgardians leave on a lifecraft, that was his thing, killing half of whoever he found”, she explained, “We didn’t have enough fuel to go and check for survivors, but once we were safe I went back, just to double check. These are my ships readings, see that spike there”, she said, pointing at the screen, “I could never figure out what it was, but these”, she pulled up more data on another monitor, “Are atmospheric readings from the Time Heist, they’re almost identical”.

“Oh my god”, for the first time that day, Bucky let a little smile creep into his face.

“It’s a residual temporal anomaly, it must’ve been triggered when Thanos blew up the ship”.

“Loki might be alive”.

They worked away until well after dawn broke, the last thing Bucky remembered about Loki was attacking him as the Winter Soldier, the only thing he knew for sure was that he’d failed, on the rare occasion that it happened HYDRA was always sure to let him know. They found a police report filed by the owner of a gas station in Queens not far from where Bucky thought it had happened. Locations from his time working for HYDRA were always foggy, they never really let him know where he was beyond what he needed to know, but a lot of New York he could recognise retrospectively. One of the attendants had gone to clean the bathroom and found the sink covered in blood. The police had suspected a potential murder given the volume, but they’d never found a body.

“Anything else?” Bucky asked, they’d searched through every news story and police report for that night and the day after they could find.

“What about this?” said Valkyrie, “A cab driver heard about the bloody bathroom, said he picked up a suspicious passenger about five blocks from the gas station, drove him into Manhattan”.

“Description?”

“White male, black hair, couldn’t tell how old he was, said he looked ill, kept clutching at his side”.

“Does it say where he dropped him off?”

“Couldn’t remember exactly, but it was near Washington Square park”, she said, handing him the report, “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Yeah, I think I know exactly where he went”.

 


	24. Broken

His wound was bleeding, badly, and he could tell that whatever had struck him was more than just a knife. As he pulled away from Bucky, every memory, every kiss, every argument, gone, trapped behind a layer of magic that would live well beyond him, he wondered if that was it for him, if his last act would be to tear down the best years of his life. Perhaps he deserved it, to get to taste happiness only to have it torn away by his own hand. However if he had any hope of surviving he knew that he had to move, and quickly. He managed to stumble to a gas station bathroom, patching himself up as best he could. In the harsh fluorescent lights it was easy to see that he’d been right about it being more than a stab wound. There was a green and black hue surrounding it that persisted long after the bleeding had begun to wane. Whatever it was seemed to be stopping him from healing, and probably a lot else. It had obviously been designed to kill a human outright, and if he hadn’t been an alien he’d of most certainly have been dead long before he ever made it out of the alley. His magic was weak, he’d over exerted himself, and he needed help, help from someone who knew what to do with him. Which, unfortunately, meant there was only one place he could go.

XXX

Once he’d finally managed to hail a cab, the driver had given him a whole number of weird looks the entire time he’d been slumped in the back seat. Which made sense, Loki had seen himself in the mirror, not only was he still bleeding and barely able to stand, he also looked exhausted, all but every drop of magic had been drained from his body. However as he stumbled out to the front steps of the New York Sanctum he sighed a breath of both relief and dread. 1967 was long, long before Strange’s time, and whilst the Ancient One might be more amenable, there was every chance that he was going to get just a warm a welcome as he had last time. Or perhaps an even worse one. Hopefully the Ancient One’s complicated history with Odin would play in his favour and not against it. Almost everything he’d been told about her could be boiled down to the fact that she’d never been a fan of Asgard interfering with Earth’s business. He  also knew there’d been some, lets say, jurisdictional scuffles over the years. However, she’d never been described as cruel, and with any luck she’d see no reason to turn Odin’s son away from her door in his hour of need.

It was late, too late to be stood on a doorstep on a cold New York night with a potentially fatal wound, and it took several exhausting bangs to get anyone to answer. When they finally did he collapsed straight into them without the door to support his weight. The poison was advanced, Hydra might not have pegged him as an alien, but they must’ve known that he was enhanced beyond normal human capability in someway because it was making his body attack itself, which in his case meant his magic wasn’t just not helping him heal, it was actively hurting him. What he needed was to hibernate whilst the poison passed through his system, but without magic putting himself in stasis, let alone finding somewhere safe to do so, would be next to impossible. The Ancient One knew this, she might not have been able to draw power from the same places as he did, but she knew enough of how it operated to help him. Creating an environment where his magic was turned down just low enough for it still be there, but not enough that it could do any more damage.

For a while he thought that everything was going to be okay, he slipped into a peaceful state of unconsciousness as his injuries healed and his body regained control of itself, the problem was once he woke up. Even in stasis, he was semi aware of what was going on around him, time passed differently, it was as if everything passed all at once without anytime to react or adapt to your surroundings. It was supposed to feel like a pinch that you would only be able to recall in half whispers once you had fully risen, aware but not able to recall verbatim. He’d been injured once as a boy, badly enough that Frigga had felt the need to put him under, he knew what it was supposed to feel like. The stasis was supposed to move with you, reacting as the body changed and healed, but all Loki felt was stuck. One of The Ancient One’s students had protested keeping him in hibernation, but she was adamant that this Loki wasn’t from their time, that he was out of place, out of balance, and therefore a potential threat. Loki knew all about the dark mark on her forehead, where exactly she drew her power from, it was a secret Odin had shared with him centuries ago when he’d asked why he didn’t trust Sorcerers on Earth to protect them from threats, as he did with other realms. He couldn’t help wonder if she was lying, if it was really her own selfish need to keep her secret that was motivating his capture. He hoped that wasn’t the case, and she wasn’t killing him at least, which is how he would’ve ended up if he’d not come, all he could do was wait for the point at which he’d travelled back to pass and see if he’d be released. He wasn’t sure if that’s what happened, all he knew was that at some point, whether it had been five minutes or fifty years he didn’t know, things started to get slow. Not time, that was as infrequent and as unpredictable as normal, but it was if the air around him was getting thicker, more sluggish, more broken. Worst of all he could feel it creeping into him.

 


	25. Your Mess is Mine

When they found Loki he was trapped in a chamber hidden beneath the Sanctum, the existence of which Strange hadn't even been aware of. It was like there was this cocoon of energy enveloping him, and Valkyrie had to hold him back before he could run out to reach him. With a wave of Strange’s hand and a snap of light the magic that was trapping Loki disappeared, and he dropped an inch or so down to the stone slab that he’d been floating above. For a horrible moment Bucky thought he might be gone for good, he was ghost white, of course he’d always been pale but this looked sickly more than it did Snow White. However, Strange took his pulse and gave them a nod, so his heart must’ve at least been beating, yet this did nothing to dispel the look of worry on Strange’s face.

It was about as bad as it could be, when the Ancient one had died, the spell had started to degrade, and Loki’s mind with it. Strange was trying to mitigate the problem in the Sanctums infirmary, but they wouldn’t be able to tell the extent of the damage until he woke up, so for the moment all he could do was wait.

“They don’t know do they?” Valkyrie asked on the third day, watching from the door as Bucky slumped back in his chair, eyes heavy from not being able to fall asleep. 

“What?” he half replied, more than a little out of it.

“Your teammates”, she elaborated, “They don’t know where you are, or why you’re gone”.

She was smart, he could see why Thor had left her in charge of New Asgard, “No, I didn’t tell them anything”, he said, “They don’t even know that I’m gay”, it was a bitter admission.

“Why not?”

“Never got round to it I guess”, which was part of the reason, although by far from all of it, “In case you didn’t get the memo, I’ve kinda had a lot on my plate these last few years”.

“Fair enough”.

“How’d you know?”

“Because otherwise this place would be crawling with Avengers, he doesn’t exactly hold much good will in this realm”.

“Yeah, well we can deal with all that when he wakes up”.

He thought about calling Sam, actually explaining where he was and what he was doing beyond vague texts telling him he might need a few more days, but it just opened so many doors he wanted to keep closed. At the end of the day, nothing had really changed since his last conversation with Steve about it. Logically, he knew how much better things had gotten since the war, and that even if it took a lifetime of pain, he might owe a little gratitude to the Universe for giving him a second chance at a life where he could actually be open and honest with the world. 

However, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that that was exactly the problem. For all its difficulties, he knew how to be gay in the 1940s, he’d spent his entire adult life learning the rules, accepting that his happy ending wouldn’t look like everyone else's. Now it was eighty years later and the world had changed more than he ever could’ve imagined, gay rights had been nothing but a twinkle in somebody’s eye when he’d died, and all of a sudden he could get married, have kids, his happy ending could be everything he’d dreamed about before he realised that he didn’t much care for chasing skirts. There was an entire new dictionary of words to describe the things and people he’d learnt to know himself around, and it terrified him. He didn’t know what those things looked like on him, his world had taught him to lie, and hide, and say whatever he needed to to keep breathing, but no one had ever prepared him for the possibility that one day he might actually get to be free. 

As bad as it sounded, part of him was petrified for Loki to wake up because with it would come a world of questions he’d have to answer, whether he was ready to or not. So, when he saw Loki’s eyes start to flicker open from the corner of his own, his heart froze under the pressure of a million contradictions. 

There was no movement at first, and he didn’t appear to be registering much, a soft groan barely escaping his lips as Bucky reached for the alert button by the side of his bed.

“B-B-Bucky?” he stuttered, struggling to move his shaking arm out to reach him, the limb only steadying when Bucky rested his own over it, “I don’t, you fell, and then y-you were”.

“Shhh”, he told him, “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about all that now”.

“M-my leg, why can’t I feel my leg”. He could see the panic and the fear come to form as he started to realise what had happened.

“It’s okay, Strange is coming”, he said, any hope that everything might be fine quickly dying.

“Strange? What y-year is it?” Before he could answer, the man in question walked through the door and ushered him into the waiting area outside to sit with Valkyrie, with what felt like hours passing before he re emerged.

“Well?” he said, before the door had the chance to close behind him.

“It could be worse, so far he’s lost movement in his left leg, has some general weakness on his left side, mild aphasia”.

“Wait what do you mean, so far?”, asked Bucky.

“Without taking him to a hospital, running scans, it’s impossible to know the extent of the damage to his brain”, he explained, “But, moving him presents it’s own, unique, problems”.

Bucky sighed, scratching at his temple, he knew what was coming, “What about New Asgard, I mean you guys must have doctors, or healers or something?”

“We do”, said Valkyrie, “But this is the doing of Earth’s magic, and Loki isn’t technically Asgardian, I fear they wouldn’t be of much help to him”.

“I could take him to my old hospital, but…”

“I know, I’ll make the call”.

XXX

He didn’t tell Sam much, only that he was at Metro-General and that he needed him to meet him there.

“I thought you were taking a vacation?” he asked as Bucky led him to the right ward.

“Yeah well, not exactly”.

“What the hell are we doing here Barnes?” He didn’t need to answer, opening the door to Loki’s room was enough. “Is that!”

“Yeah, it is”. Sam’s eyes were wider than Bucky had ever seen them, and he’d seen them after having the steering wheel of a moving car ripped out from above him. 

He didn’t tell him everything, a coming out seemed like it would be a little too much on top of non-quantum realm time travel, memory wipes, infinity stones, assassination attempts, wizards, and ancient Asgardian god pools.

“So you’re telling me that Loki,  _ the Loki _ , the one who invaded New York, tried to take over the whole planet, worked for Thanos,  _ that guy _ , served with you and Cap in world war two?”

“I know that it sounds crazy”,  _ but he was my boyfriend, but I’m in love with him _ , “But I just need you to trust me”.

“Okay”, he took a pause, assessing the true gravity of the mess they were in, “Then tell me what you need?”

“Maybe reach out to Rhodes, get the UN down here. Technically he was handed over to the Asgardians for punishment so Valkyrie’s gonna protect him the best she can, but this is still gonna be a shit storm as soon as it gets out”.

“I can get the ball rolling, but I can’t promise this is gonna turn out well, for anyone”. Bucky nodded, he knew the risks, but what other choice did he have. Sure, he could survive on the run and out of sight, but Loki needed help, which meant this all had to run as above board as possible. 

As far as Loki’s injuries, Strange told him that given how much degradation the spell had suffered it was a miracle nothing more vital had been significantly damaged. However, the damage that had occurred had been serious, Strange described it as like having a stroke over the span of a decade, slowly degrading different parts of Loki’s brain, on top of some more localised nerve damage. He also explained that different symptoms might develop over time, this was magic after all, not an exact science. For now though, his speech was passable apart from the occasional stutter or slip up, he was aware, and hadn’t appeared to suffer any major memory loss. Although it was difficult to question him extensively, given that he was exhausted and rarely stayed awake longer than an hour at a time. Not to mention that pretty much everyone from his past was dead or in some distant corner of the Universe, so figuring out if he was missing any earlier memories was all but impossible until they managed to track down Thor. Valkyrie had tried to send a message to the Guardians ship but they must’ve been out of range, so neither of them were optimistic for a swift reunion. 

“What’s happening to me?” asked Loki, it’d been about a week and the entire hospital ward was crawling with UN security, and his team of doctors had been switched. The only reason they hadn’t moved him to a different facility is because Strange had insisted that he was the most qualified person to treat him, and that that meant he was staying put. 

“Your brain, the ancient one-”

“No, I know that”, he said, cutting him off, “What’s happening with me being here?”

“You mean on Earth?” Loki nodded. “Valkyrie’s working on it, you don’t need to worry about it”.

“What about with-with us?” his voice was still quiet, tired from everything his body had been through, the weakness on his left side muffeling his words even more so.

Bucky smiled, lacing his hand through Loki’s good side, “I don’t know”, he said, “What do you want to happen?”

“I’m sorry”, he said, “For taking your, from, for taking what happened between us from you”.

“You’re sorry?” said Bucky, “I stabbed you, if anyone has something to apologise for it’s me”. Part of him kept telling himself that he was to blame for what was happening to Loki, if he’d never attacked him then he wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place, but thankfully he’d been to a lot of therapy whilst he was in Wakanda, and he knew that the only person to blame for Loki’s current predicament was the Ancient One. He’d gone to her for help, he’d been vulnerable, and she’d made the mistake of locking him away without giving him a chance to explain himself.

“It wasn’t you” said Loki,  “If I’d known then, that you were, that that was what happened to you”.

“But you didn’t, what matters is that we’re both here, now, together”.

“This isn’t exactly what you signed up for”.

“No it’s not”, he admitted, “But look at my life, I stopped being surprised by things somewhere around 1943”. Loki laughed for the first time since he’d woken up, it was half a cough, impeded by his injuries, but his smile was as beautiful as it had always been. “And right now everything’s new and strange, and it’s like a lifetime hit me in the face in less than an hour, but I remember how I felt, and I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to”. He lent in, and even though the kiss was at an awkward angle given that Loki wasn’t sat up properly and couldn’t really move to meet him, it felt like things made sense for the first time since he’d come back. He remembered why he’d told Steve about him during the war, that feeling of not being able to keep it inside, of needing to tell someone how he was feeling came rushing back to him.

“I love you”, said Loki, his nose still close enough to brush against Bucky’s face, “I’m not sure about the hair though”. They both chuckled, breaking apart when one of the doctors came in to take Loki for another scan. 

Valkyrie had sent him down to the hospital canteen for something with a little more nutritional value than coffee from a vending machine.

“Hey”, he heard Sam call from behind him, taking the seat opposite him with a meal of his own, “Man I am starving. That Valkyrie’s the real deal huh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ross look intimidated before”. 

“Huh”, Bucky mumbled, “That doesn’t surprise me, any news yet?”

“They wanna have a hearing, present all the evidence you know, but Strange is saying that they’ll have to at least wait until the guys not confined to a hospital bed”.

“And if the hearing goes his way?”

“Probably some kind of probation, tracking anklet, he’ll have to sign the Accords either way”, Sam explained between bites of his sandwich, “I take it once he’s back on his feet he’s going back with the other Asgardians?” 

“Yeah about that”, he said, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or food, but he saw an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, “Steve, he uhh, left me his old apartment in Brooklyn, I was thinking about taking him back there, with me”.

Sam looked up from his plate, forgetting about the mediocre hospital meal deal he’d been inhaling like it was a michelin star dinner, “Wait”, he said, “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here? I know you said he served with you and Cap, but how well did you actually know this guy?”

“We, uhh, we were together, like together together”.

It took a moment for what he’d said to register on Sam’s face, “Oh, you mean like”.

“Yeah”, he confirmed, his heart too nervous to smile, “Is that okay?”

Sam smiled, “Of course it’s okay, little weird that it’s Loki but..."

Bucky laughed, half at Sam's teasing, half out of relief that at least one thing had gone right that day.

XXX

The next few weeks were exhausting, Sam had to force him into going home long enough to get some rest and a shower. There was pressure from the UN to get him well enough for a hearing so the physical therapy was intensive, and when he’d go and visit Loki always looked weak and limp. One night they’d been talking and he just burst into tears, an incomprehensible sob that Bucky could make no sense of, that only started to subside when he climbed into bed beside him. For a while they didn’t say anything, Bucky just held him there, rocking him back and forth until he quieted.

“Do you know what this reminds me off”, whispered Bucky, finally.

“What?”

“Your bunk, from back in the day, you me, squeezed into that tiny little thing”.

“I’m surprised we never broke one”, he teased, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. “What?” He asked.

“Just nice to see you back to your old self”.

“Not sure that’s exactly true”, said Loki, retreating into himself, “I was a king, a prince, now I can’t even get out of bed by myself”.

“Don’t talk like that, we’re gonna get through this, together okay, couple of days and you’ll be out of here, then we just have to get through the hearing”. He stiffened at the mention of the hearing. “Hey, don’t worry about it, whatever happens, happens, the important thing is that we deal with it, together”, and God, how he hoped he was right.

 


End file.
